ACRES  OF-  BOOKS 
14*  PACIFIC  AVKMttf 
L«M«  »BACW. 


MY    LADY 


A  STORY   OF   LONG  AGO 


BY 


MARGUERITE    BOUVET 

AUTHOR  OF  "SWEET   WILLIAM,"  "LITTLE  MARJORIE'S  LOVE 
STORY,"  "  PRINCE  TIP-TOP,"  ETC. 


KUustratet)  lig 
HELEN    MAITLAND    ARMSTRONG 


CHICAGO 

A.   C.   McCLURG    AND    COMPANY 
1894 


COPYRIGHT 

BY   A.   C.    McCLURG  AND   CO. 

A.  D.  1894 

Alt  rights  reserved 


2061816 


Marguerite  Bouvet^- 
o 


<?s /fate f reefed  fits 

Helen  Aairland  Armfironof 
A  o 


CM 


\ 


^•D'CCCXCIV 


TO  THEE, 
O    FAIR    PROVENCE! 

AND 

TO    THE     DEAR     COMPANION     WHO     SHARED    WITH     ME 
THE   JOYS   OF  THY    PERPETUAL  SPRINGTIME, 

THESE  PAGES 

ARE    LOVINGLY    INSCRIBED. 

AVIGNON,  November  31,  1893. 


LIST  OF   ILLUSTRATIONS. 


PAGE 

"  Amor  vincit  omnia  " Frontispiece 

"  A  good-day  to  you,  Mistress  Anne  "  ...  23 
"  David  would  come  home  with  her  on  his 

great  shoulder" Si 

"  The  old  Chateau  of  Saint-Rambert  "...  99 

The  Saint-Rambert  Arms 121 

At  the  Harpsichord 141 

"  My  Lady  out  upon  some  errand  of  mercy  "  .  155 

"  In  her  little  garden  " 175 

"  Play  fair,  cousin  mine,  have  you  no  secret  to 

tell  me  ?  "        219 

Consulting    Mere    Toinette    on   very    Private 

Matters 227 

"  He  stood  and  watched  her  long  and  thought- 
fully "     239 

"  A  circlet  of  yellow  gold  on  her  slender  finger  ".  281 


CHAPTER   I. 


ERHAPS  I  am  old  to  be 
telling  you  a  tale  of 
young  loves,  now  that 
my  eyes  are  growing 
dim,  and  my  hair  is 
streaked  with  silver ; 
old,  you  may  say,  to  be 
discoursing  upon  mat- 
ters so  far  removed  from 
my  years,  —  too  old  to 
be  talking  of  my  own 
foolish  heart  by  the  wayside,  as  I  fear  I  may, 
in  the  telling  of  my  narrative.  But  let  me 
say  to  you  now,  for  the  sake  of  your  indul- 


1 6  MY  LADY: 

gence,  that  it  is  not  my  story  I  would  relate 
in  these  pages,  —  though  a  story  of  my  own 
I  have,  as  what  woman,  indeed,  has  not,  — 
but  the  story  of  those  who  are  dearer  to  me 
than  self.  For  what  has  an  old  woman  like 
me  to  do  with  romancing,  forsooth  !  if  she 
but  tell  her  own  silly  love-tale,  and  that  near 
a  half-century  old,  and  all  out  of  the  fashion  ! 
My  Lady  is  now  one-and-twenty,  and  I  am 
thrice  her  age ;  and  yet  since  her  own  love- 
times  are  come,  and  I  have  had  such  a  deal 
to  do  in  the  matter,  there  is  a  sweet  fellow- 
ship between  us,  such  as  only  confidences 
bring,  and  which  might  well  exist  between  sis- 
ters ;  whereas  we  are  but  young  mistress  and 
old  nurse.  We  have  pondered  over  many 
tender  things  together,  she  and  I,  and  we 
have  laughed  and  wept  together ;  for  now  her 
heart  is  drawn,  I  think,  to  every  thing  and 
creature  that  has  known  trouble.  She  often 
tells  me  that  my  heart  has  not  kept  pace 
with  my  years,  and  that  I  understand  love 
and  loving  so  well  that  she  would  liefer  tell 
her  secrets  to  me  than  to  any  one  else  in 
the  world.  But  that  is  her  own  fond  way  of 
talking  to  me.  She  knows  that  I  love  to  live 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.  17 

in  the  long-ago,  as  all  do  who  have  crossed 
from  the  heyday  of  life  to  the  twilight  of 
age ;  and  like  the  sweet  creature  that  she  is, 
she  questions  me  and  draws  my  thoughts 
from  me,  and  would  have  me  speak  to  her 
of  the  days  that  are  dear  to  me.  T  is  then 
I  recall  only  the  pleasant  and  happy  times 
of  my  long  life,  —  though  the  past  holds 
some  dark  memories  for  me  of  which  my 
dear  girl  knows  nothing.  But  memory  is 
such  a  gentle  thing  that  it  chooses  rather 
the  fair  and  lovely  pages  of  life  for  our 
contemplation :  its  pains  and  sorrows  being 
heavy  must  needs  sink  to  the  bottom ;  but 
its  joys,  so  light  and  frothy,  rise  quickest 
and  rest  longest  upon  its  surface.  That  is 
why,  as  I  look,  with  my  darling  at  my  side, 
upon  the  years  that  are  gone,  I  see  only  a 
calm  and  peaceful  surface,  with  here  and 
there  a  happy  recollection  floating  like  a 
flower  upon  its  bosom ;  but  when  I  think 
on  those  times  alone,  ah  me,  it  is  very 
different ! 

Now,  I  fear  me  I  have  made  a  bad  begin- 
ning ;  for  while  I  sit  me  down  to  write  you 
my  Maidie's  story,  this  freaksome  pen  runs 
2 


1 8  MY  LADY: 

away  of  its  own  fancy,  and  would  tell  you 
quite  another  tale. 

You  will  guess,  ere  you  have  read  many 
of  these  pages,  that  my  Lady,  and  indeed 
her  cousin  Philippe,  the  present  Marquis 
de  Saint-Rambert,  are  the  two  beings  that 
lie  nearest  my  heart.  My  darling  says  that 
I  must  add  a  third  person  to  this  number, 
holding  that  I  am  bound  in  honor  to  love 
all  whom  she  loves ;  but  it  is  a  hard  lesson 
for  my  jealous  old  heart  to  learn  to  love  so 
formidable  a  rival,  especially  as  I  am  unable 
so  soon  to  forget  the  stir  and  turmoil  brought 
into  our  quiet  midst  by  this  same  young  per- 
son's handsome  countenance. 

Now,  to  tell  you  why  I  am  thus  bound  in 
heart  to  two  young  creatures  so  far  above 
me  in  station,  being  neither  their  grandam 
nor  their  grand -aunt,  nor  nearer  to  them  in 
kin  than  yourself,  I  must  needs  make  a  long 
story  of  it,  and  take  you  back  with  me  well- 
nigh  five-and-twenty  autumns  past,  to  that 
gray  Michaelmas  morning  when  the  Lady 
Margaret,  my  darling's  young  mother,  first 
came  to  me  and  made  me  her  confessor,  as 
she  said,  and  later  did  succeed  in  making  me 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.  19 

her  most  wily  accomplice  by  playing  upon  my 
heart-strings  with  her  girlish  grievances.  We 
were  then  in  the  little  town  of  Wolverton,  — 
the  homeliest  and  merriest  little  town,  to  my 
mind,  in  all  of  merry  England.  For  it  was 
there  I  had  lived  my  childhood  and  maiden- 
hood, and  grown  wise  in  many  things ;  't  was 
there  I  learned  the  first  joy  that  comes  to 
woman  —  But  enough  !  I  may  not  dwell 
upon  that  now;  there  is  a  time  and  a  place 
for  all  that  I  would  say  of  happy  days  at 
Wolverton. 

I  had  not  yet  dreamed  of  venturing  across 
the  waters  to  this  fair  land  of  France,  being 
but  a  simple  country  wench,  and  never  hav- 
ing journeyed  so  far  from  home  as  London 
town,  yet  ever  hungering  to  do  so  for  what 
I  might  learn  of  the  great  world  beyond. 
I  had  been  a  yeoman's  daughter  and  was 
still  a  yeoman's  sister,  and  butter  and  eggs 
and  cream  had  been  and  were  like  to  be  my 
lot  forever ;  yet  I  had  a  mad  thirst  for  all 
manner  of  things  above  my  station. 

Now,  as  Fate  would  have  it,  that  same 
sweet  cream  and  butter  against  which  my 
lofty  spirit  so  oft  rebelled  proved  to  be  the 


20  MY  LADY: 

very  things  that  brought  to  me  what  I  desired 
most,  since  by  means  of  them  I  made  my 
first  acquaintance  with  great  folk.  It  was  in  a 
year  of  wondrous  stir  and  excitement  abroad, 
—  though  be  it  far  from  me  to  tell  you  what 
was  the  purport  of  it  all,  having  affairs  of 
my  own  to  concern  me  in  those  days  which 
had  naught  to  do  with  the  state  of  the  French 
kingdom,  —  a  year  of  revolution  in  this  land 
where  to-day  I  write  these  pages,  that  has 
not  its  like  in  history,  when  the  very  hair 
on  people's  heads  turned  white  for  fear,  and 
every  monarch  trembled  on  his  throne.  Ah, 
well  do  I  remember  the  time  !  The  village- 
folk  talked  of  nothing  else,  and  our  own 
England  was  mightily  disturbed  thereby. 
But  there  are  days,  and  plenty  of  them,  I 
would  sooner  recall  than  those  days,  the 
very  thought  of  which  is  like  a  bad  night- 
vision  to  one  who  lived  through  them  as  I  did. 
I  speak  of  them  now  only  because  it  was  in 
this  wise  that  Monsieur  le  Marquis  de  Saint- 
Rambert  and  his  young  daughter,  the  Lady 
Margaret,  happened  in  our  little  town  of 
Wolverton.  Monsieur  le  Marquis  had  sought 
refuge  here  for  the  sake  of  his  only  child,  and, 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.  21 

too,  because  he  himself  had  well-nigh  out- 
lived his  days  of  warfare,  though  I  doubt 
not  that  it  grieved  him  bitterly  to  leave  his 
dear  country  when  she  needed  his  help  most, 
now  that  he  was  too  old  to  do  her  service.  So 
he  had  left  the  beautiful  old  chateau  in  Pro- 
vence, with  its  wealth  of  roses  and  green  gar- 
dens, its  groves  of  olive-trees,  its  perpetual 
sunshine,  and  had  come  to  live  in  Wolverton, 
at  the  Rookery,  which  was  the  country-house 
of  one  of  our  English  gentlemen.  It  was  a 
safe  enough  place  in  those  days  of  trouble, 
and  out  of  the  world  enough,  Heaven  knows  ! 
for  Wolverton  was  but  a  country  village,  with 
simple-minded  folk  in  it,  who  only  opened 
wide  their  eyes  and  mouths  at  all  they  heard 
of  the  fierce  doings  of  an  enraged  people, 
and  then  went  their  quiet  ways  and  forgot 
about  it  as  soon  as  they  did  the  punishment 
in  the  next  world,  of  which  they  heard  much 
from  their  good  parson. 

It  was  here  that  Monsieur  le  Marquis  and 
his  daughter  were  living,  I  know  not  how 
long  a  time,  when  I  first  learned  to  know 
and  love  the  Lady  Margaret.  Now,  our  farm 
was  but  a  short  walk  from  the  Rookery,  and 


22  MY  LADY: 

I  was  wont  to  take  a  basketful  of  dairies 
thither  every  evening  at  sun-down.  It  so 
happened  that  one  day  as  I  was  turning  on 
my  way  homeward,  after  leaving  there  my 
handsomest  cakes  of  butter,  I  was  arrested 
by  a  sound  which,  to  my  ear,  was  both  food 
and  music.  From  an  opened  window  looking 
down  upon  the  lane,  there  came  a  sweet  low 
voice  rising  and  falling  in  such  rich  cadence 
that  I  could  not  tell  at  first  whether  it  was  a 
song  or  a  prayer.  But  I  soon  recognized  the 
Lady  Margaret's  voice  reading  aloud  to  her 
father  one  of  Robbie  Burns's  tender  love- 
poems,  while  Monsieur  le  Marquis  lay  back 
in  his  chair  fast  asleep.  Such  wealth  of  sen- 
timent, such  tenderness  of  expression  was  in 
her  voice,  that  I  stood  still  awhile  to  listen, 
and  trembled  for  very  emotion.  I  waited  till 
the  song  was  done,  and  thought  I  heard  a 
gentle  sigh  from  the  lips  that  read  them ;  but 
mayhap  it  was  an  echo  from  my  own  heart, 
for  I  had  not  heard  for  many  a  day  anything 
that  so  disturbed  my  peace  as  those  yearn- 
ing, passionate  lines.  However  that  may  be, 
I  was  loath  to  leave  the  spot,  when  suddenly, 
and  as  though  in  response  to  my  thoughts, 


A  good-day  to  you,  Mistress  Ann?." 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.  25 

the  Lady  Margaret  herself  appeared  at  the 
casement,  and,  seeing  me,  called  out  in  her 
prettiest,  — 

"  A  good-day  to  you,  Mistress  Anne  ;  and 
how  do  you  find  yourself  to-day?" 

"  If  you  please,  quite  well,  and  many  thanks 
to  your  sweet  Ladyship,"  I  replied. 

"  And  have  you  brought  us  some  fresh 
butter-cakes,  good  Anne?" 

"  As  many  as  I  could  carry,  sweet  my 
Lady,"  I  made  answer.  Then  seeing  by  my 
eyes  how  much  I  did  admire  her,  —  for  she 
was  indeed  the  very  loveliest  picture  I  had 
ever  seen,  as  she  leaned  over  the  green  ivy 
that  scrambled  round  the  window-ledge,  her 
bright  curls  tumbling  in  pretty  disorder  over 
her  white  gown,  and  her  dark  eyes  swimming 
in  a  depth  of  fire  that  I  could  never  fathom,— 

"You  are  fond  of  me,"  she  said,  "are  you 
not,  Mistress  Anne?" 

"  And  sure,  my  Lady,  how  could  one  help 
it !  "  I  said,  blushing  at  her  quick  reading  of 
my  thoughts. 

"And  I  like  you  very  much,  Mistress 
Anne,"  she  continued,  "and  I  should  wish 
you  to  be  my  friend.  I  have  great  need  of 


26  MY  LADY: 

a  friend  sometimes,"  and  she  lowered  her 
voice  a  bit,  "  a  woman-friend  like  you,  for  it 
is  lonely  here,  and  my  dear  father  can  think 
of  nothing  but  the  troubles  in  our  country, 
and  longs  for  the  time  to  come  when  he  may 
go  back  to  France."  Then,  as  if  a  sudden 
thought  came  to  her,  she  said  confidingly : 
"  Will  you  walk  awhile  with  me  in  the  gar- 
den before  you  go?  It  is  not  late,  and 
David  will  not  need  you  yet,  and  I  should 
like  to  talk  with  you." 

Dear  child  that  she  was,  Heaven  bless  her 
memory  !  how  well  I  knew  what  she  needed, 
without  any  words  !  How  well  I  knew  that 
I,  though  lowly  born,  had  felt  the  self-same 
need  and  known  the  self-same  hunger  that 
her  few  words  bespoke  !  I  have  never  taken 
it  in  pride  or  vainglory  that  the  Lady  Mar- 
garet came  to  me  with  her  confidences. 
'Twas  rather  the  lack  of  one  better  that 
made  her  choose  me  to  confide  in,  I  fear, 
for  she  knew  no  one  save  myself  who  was 
near  her  in  age,  and  even  I  was  then  ten 
years  her  elder.  And  Mistress  Hyde,  who 
had  been  her  governess  ever  since  their 
first  coming  to  England,  and  who  was  a 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.  27 

woman  of  much  learning,  I  doubt  not,  and 
had  trained  her  young  mind  admirably,  had 
never  succeeded  in  winning  her  heart. 

Now,  Mistress  Hyde  was  a  dark-browed, 
severe  woman,  with  a  forbidding  look  about 
her  that  was  enough  to  freeze  the  flow  of 
sympathy  from  any  source.  No  tender- 
hearted child  like  the  Lady  Margaret  would 
ever  have  gone  to  her  with  any  secret  con- 
fidence. She  was  a  woman,  but  without 
womanliness,  and  I  knew  the  child  was  afraid 
of  her  and  had  no  love  for  her.  Her  nature 
was  hard  and  unfeeling,  as  one  might  have 
told  at  a  glance  from  those  close,  crossed 
black  eyes  of  hers ;  and  even  I  could  not 
bear  to  remain  long  in  her  company. 

Therefore,  not  very  many  minutes  after 
the  Lady  Margaret  and  I  had  walked  about 
in  the  garden,  we  became,  in  truth,  the  fast- 
est friends.  Heaven  forgive  my  pride  for 
speaking  of  it !  I  told  her  of  my  listening 
to  her  reading  of  the  love-poem,  begging  her 
forgiveness  for  my  boldness,  and  making 
excuse  for  having  a  hankering  after  all  such 
sweet  things,  which  I  ween  was  no  fit  occu- 
pation for  such  as  I.  But  she  was  only 


28  MY  LADY: 

pleased  the  more  with  me  for  it,  and  said 
she  would  come  often  herself  and  read  to 
me.  For  Monsieur  le  Marquis,  she  said,  was 
not  o'er  fond  of  love-things,  preferring  his- 
tory and  the  like  deep  works,  far  too  full  of 
science  for  her  young  imagination.  So  when 
she  had  out  her  Robbie  Burns,  or  even  Mas- 
ter Shakespeare,  whom  she  admired  exceed- 
ingly, and  read  to  please  herself,  Monsieur 
de  Saint-Rambert  would  fall  immediately 
to  snoring.  After  much  talk  on  various  sub- 
jects, and  passing  from  one  thing  to  another, 
the  Lady  Margaret  opened  her  heart  to  me, 
and  told  me  what  it  was  that  made  her  long 
for  a  friend  to  counsel  her.  When  we  had 
taken  many  turns  up  and  down  the  little 
pebble-walk,  and  I  had  brought  her  back  to 
the  house-door  because  of  the  approaching 
darkness,  I  had  learned  something  which 
troubled  me,  and  gave  me  a  feeling  of  great 
responsibility,  —  it  was  that  the  Lady  Margaret 
had  a  lover,  and  that  not  a  soul  knew  of  it 
save  herself  and  me. 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.  29 


CHAPTER   II. 

T  was  some  time  after 
that  evening  before  I 
saw  the  Lady  Margaret 
again.  1  looked  for  her 
every  time  I  happened 
near  the  Rookery,  or 
crossed  the  park  and  gardens ;  but  I  saw 
nothing,  nor  had  any  sign  of  her,  so  that 
I  began  to  wonder  what  might  have  taken 
place.  I  feared  lest  Mistress  Hyde,  with  her 
ever  watchful  eye,  had  in  some  way  of  her 
own  discovered  the  Lady  Margaret's  secret, 
and  was  mayhap  tormenting  the  poor  child 
beyond  endurance,  as  I  knew  she  could  do. 
I  had  a  mind  to  go  in  one  day  and  boldly 
ask  for  the  young  mistress,  but  waited,  hop- 
ing I  might  get  a  glimpse  of  her  at  church 
the  next  morning. 

It  was  well  on  toward   Michaelmas,  and 
there  was  a  special  service  at  the  church.     I 


30  MY  LADY: 

was  just  preparing  to  wend  my  way  thither, 
as  every  good  Christian  would  surely  do  at 
this  pious  season,  and  having  tied  my  bonnet- 
strings,  and  wrapped  my  mantle  close  about 
me,  and  repeated  my  injunctions  to  Mildred 
about  the  roasting  of  the  goose,  I  stepped 
into  the  garden  to  gather  a  handful  of  the 
last  Michaelmas  daisies  to  lay  in  the  church- 
yard on  my  way  to  service,  when  there  came 
a  gentle  tap  at  the  garden-gate,  which  made 
me.  start  as  never  a  loud  thump  did  ;  for  it 
sounded  like  the  call  of  some  poor  thing  in 
trouble. 

I  hastened  down  the  walk  and  opened 
the  wicket,  first  peering  through  the  thick 
screen  of  morning-glories  that  covered  it, 
to  look  who  my  early  visitor  might  be  ;  and 
imagine  my  surprise,  when  I  saw  before 
me  the  pretty  Lady  Margaret,  with  only  a  bit 
of  a  silken  scarf  thrown  round  her  head,  her 
bright  hair  blown  out  from  under  it  by 
the  wind,  and  her  cheeks  made  rosy  with 
running. 

"Sweet  my  Lady,"  I  cried  in  astonish- 
ment, "  you  here  so  early  in  the  morning, 
and  not  at  chapel !  What  is  it,  my  love  ? 


A    STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.  31 

Come,  come  in  out  of  the  chill,  and  tell  me 
what 's  your  errand." 

"  Oh,  Mistress  Anne  !  "  she  cried,  and 
could  not  speak  another  word  for  the  feel- 
ings that  were  in  her.  I  guessed  it  all  in  a 
minute,  as  soon  as  she  looked  up  at  me  with 
her  large  dark  eyes  swimming  in  pitiful 
tears.  With  my  own  heart  swelling,  I  led 
her  into  the  cottage,  and  pulled  the  big  chair 
near  to  the  fire-hearth,  and,  sitting  down, 
drew  her  in  my  lap,  never  heeding  the  ser- 
vice bells,  —  the  good  Lord  forgive  me,  — 
which  had  been  pealing  for  a  full  two 
minutes. 

Then  she  threw  her  arms  about  my  neck, 
and  fell  to  sobbing  dismally,  and  saying 
things  between  her  sobs  that  I  could  scarce 
make  out.  But  I  was  not  slow  to  understand 
such  moods,  and  I  soon  began  to  guess  that 
she  and  Monsieur  le  Marquis  had  been  hav- 
ing a  sorry  time  about  something  serious, 
else  she  would  not  have  taken  it  so  to  heart, 
For  they  were  both  hot-headed,  the  Lady 
Margaret  and  her  father,  and  the  French 
blood  in  them  was  quickly  roused.  And, 
though  loving  each  other  dearly,  I  knew  that 


32  MY  LADY: 

they  had  words  and  vexations  about  one 
thing  or  another  every  fortnight  or  so.  But 
when  the  artless  child  told  me  that  her 
dauntless  lover  had  been  to  ask  Monsieur  de 
Saint-Rambert  for  his  daughter's  hand  in  mar- 
riage, saying  he  had  already  won  her  heart, 
and  a  deal  more  daring  nonsense,  such  as 
only  rash  youth  and  mad  love  would  ever 
dream  of  saying ;  then  I  marvelled  not  that 
the  high-spirited  Marquis,  with  his  fine  old 
French  temper,  waxed  very  angry.  He  was 
an  exceeding  proud  nobleman,  was  Monsieur 
le  Marquis,  and  all  through  the  time  of  his 
misfortunes  his  head  was  never  less  erect,  I 
think,  than  in  the  days  of  his  prosperity  and 
youth.  He  vowed  that  the  Lady  Margaret 
was  no  daughter  of  his,  if  ever  she  gave  her 
heart  to  a  low-born  man,  and  that  it  were 
rank  folly  for  her  even  to  think  of  the  young 
miscreant ;  for  in  his  rage  he  could  not  find 
words  harsh  enough  for  the  ill-advised  lover. 
Now,  my  pretty  Lady,  being  stricken  deep 
with  love  for  this  same  low-born  miscreant, 
could  see  no  reason  in  her  father's  wrath ; 
and  to  speak  truly,  no  more  could  I.  For 
the  young  lover  was  in  no  wise  a  low-born 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.  33 

man,  nor  yet  a  miscreant,  being  a  squire's 
son,  a  Welshman  of  very  fair  repute,  comely 
of  face  and  figure,  and  noble  enough  in 
heart,  God  knows !  but  not  enough  so  in 
name  and  lineage  to  please  the  proud  old 
Marquis.  I  have  always  thought  that  he 
secretly  hoped  for  a  great  alliance  for  his 
fair  daughter,  —  one  that  would  give  her  a 
name  as  noble  as  his  own,  and  shield  her 
from  the  dangers  with  which  his  fortune  was 
threatened.  But  the  good  gentleman  was 
disappointed  of  all  his  hopes. 

So,  what  with  an  undutiful  child,  as  he 
called  my  poor  Lady,  and  a  determined  lover, 
and  an  angry  parent,  I  judged  they  had  had 
a  sorry  time  of  it.  The  Marquis  had  spoken 
such  bitter  words  to  the  poor  child,  that  she 
was  beside  herself  with  grief,  and  had  come 
to  me  for  comfort.  I  tried  to  reason  with 
her,  and  to  talk  wisdom,  which  I  knew  full 
well  had  little  to  do  with  an  ill-starred  love ; 
but  it  came  over  me  that  I  must  be  sage  in 
my  counsel  at  such  a  time,  however  much 
my  heart  yearned  for  the  tender  creature. 
And  I  was  always  pretty  good  at  preaching, 
and  had  a  marvellous  store  of  reasoning, 
3 


34  MY  LADY: 

save  when  it  came  to  my  own  days  of  trou- 
ble, and  then,  God  help  me,  there  was  never 
a  heart  more  bitter  or  more  untaught  than 
mine. 

The  Lady  Margaret  rose  so  quickly,  when 
I  spoke  of  submission  and  her  duty  to  her 
parent,  that  I  was  startled.  She  snatched 
the  fleecy  scarf  from  where  it  had  fallen 
about  her  neck,  and  threw  it  almost  into  the 
blaze,  so  that  I  had  to  spring  after  it  in  good 
haste,  and  she  stood  before  me,  tall  and  trem- 
bling like  an  aspen  leaf,  her  eyes  flashing 
fire,  as  I  had  never  seen  them  before,  and 
said  :  "  What !  Mistress  Anne,  you  whom  I 
have  made  my  friend,  you  would  have  me  be 
false  to  my  love,  and  cast  him  by,  because 
he  wears  not  a  noble  name  !  You  do  not 
mean  a  word  of  it ;  in  your  heart  you  know 
it  is  not  just.  Does  not  the  motto  of  our 
noble  house  itself  teach  that  love  over-rideth 
all  things,  and  maketh  all  things  equal ;  and 
shall  not  I,  even  though  I  be  the  first  to 
do  it,  live  by  that  noble  truth?  Do  not 
speak  to  me  of  dutiful  love,  nor  of  wisdom 
and  obedience.  My  father  cannot  love 
me,  since  he  would  bring  grief  to  me.  He 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.  35 

does  not  love  me,  Mistress  Anne,  and  no 
more  do  you  if  you  take  not  my  part;  but 
my  love  does,  and  none  else ;  and  therefore 
will  I  go  to  him,  and  follow  him  to  the  world's 
end,  and  live  and  die  for  him  if  need  be  !  " 

We  have  all  heard  such  words  from  pas- 
sionate young  lips.  They  are  always  said  in 
moments  like  this.  I  said  them  myself  once, 
though  not  so  eloquently  as  the  Lady  Mar- 
garet ;  but  what  of  that?  the  meaning  was  the 
same,  and  1  felt  as  much.  It  all  came  back 
to  me,  —  ah,  yes,  as  I  looked  at  the  dear  girl, 
so  earnest,  so  loving,  and  so  unhappy.  What 
could  I  say  to  her?  Her  words  and  look 
disarmed  me  quite  ;  and  altogether  forgetting 
the  weight  of  my  responsibility,  I  took  her 
in  my  arms  again,  with  a  feeling  in  me  I 
cannot  call  by  name,  and  said,  "  Now,  by 
Heaven,  my  love,  you  shall  have  your  heart's 
desire,  and  I  will  be  the  first  to  help  you." 
For  I  know  not  what  came  over  me  at  that 
moment,  but  that  my  very  soul  seemed  to 
burst  forth  like  a  long-pent-up  stream,  and 
go  out  to  her  in  her  trouble,  and  make 
everything  easy  but  the  thought  of  seeing 
her  suffer. 


36  MY  LADY: 

Now,  it  may  be  the  mark  of  a  seared 
conscience  in  me,  but  I  could  never  quite 
bring  myself  to  think  that  I  did  wrong  in 
shielding  and  helping  these  two  loving  souls. 
For  this  is  one  of  my  maxims,  that  we  should 
make  the  most  of  what  joy  we  find  in  the 
world,  whether  it  be  for  ourselves  or  for  our 
fellows,  and  that  if  we  but  bring  the  light  of 
consolation  to  a  single  human  life,  we  have 
done  a  golden  deed. 

Upon  hearing  such  unexpected  words  of 
promise,  the  pretty  dear  flew  at  me,  and  gave 
me  such  a  kissing  and  squeezing  that  my 
bonnet  and  hair-pins  went  dancing  merrily 
about  the  room,  and  my  feast-day  garb  was 
in  a  sad  plight.  We  sat  down  again,  and  she 
told  me  the  whole  story  without  any  tears 
this  time,  save  those  she  wept  for  joy  and 
gratefulness  at  having  found  so  good  a  friend 
in  me,  she  said,  calling  me  her  dearest  Mis- 
tress Anne,  and  making  me  such  sweet 
speeches  and  pretty  compliments  that  my 
head  turned  quite  giddy,  and  I  did  nothing 
but  sit  by  and  smile,  and  listen  to  her  as 
she  planned  matters  to  suit  herself,  with  never 
so  much  as  a  tremble  when  she  reminded  me  of 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.  3? 

my  rash  promise  and  vowed  that  she  would 
hold  me  to  it.  But  -many  and  many  a  time 
in  the  days  that  followed,  did  I  have  reason 
to  tremble ;  for  what  with  the  occasional 
prickings  of  my  cowardly  conscience  and 
the  fear  of  Monsieur  le  Marquis's  displeasure 
at  the  unruliness  of  his  child,  and  wondering 
whether  I  was  doing  the  right  thing  by  her, 
I  slept  upon  an  uneasy  bed. 

The  Lady  Margaret  came  to  see  me  very 
often  after  that  St.  Michael's  day,  and  none 
suspected  the  meaning  of  her  visits.  There 
was  nothing  strange  in  her  liking  to  come  to 
our  farm,  because  every  one  in  the  village 
knew  that  there  was  always  good  hospitality 
to  be  found  there,  and  that  we  plumed  our- 
selves on  giving  the  best  we  had  to  our  high- 
born visitors,  whenever  it  pleased  God  we 
had  them.  Then,  the  walk  from  the  Rookery 
was  but  a  hundred  rods,  and  was  withal  a 
most  enchanting  way ;  first  across  the  wooded 
park  so  cool  and  sequestered,  with  the  shade 
of  its  oaks  and  larches,  and  its  leafy  chest- 
nuts ;  then  down  the  avenue  of  silvery  beech- 
trees,  turning  and  twisting  their  slender 
branches  overhead  into  a  kind  of  green 


38  MY  LADY: 

labyrinth,  with  shady  hollows  in  unlooked-for 
places,  and  tempting  nooks  here  and  there, 
bidding  one  stop  and  muse  in  them.  It  was 
a  veritable  paradise  for  young  lovers,  wherein 
to  commune  in  comfort  and  sweet  solitude. 
Many  is  the  time  we  sat  there,  the  Lady  Mar- 
garet and  I,  and  plotted,  —  for  folk  with  a 
secret  must  ever  be  a-plotting  in  order  to 
keep  it  such,  and  there  was  no  fitter  spot 
to  the  purpose.  Through  all  the  pleasant 
autumn  days  that  followed  she  was  with  me, 
and  we  busied  ourselves  with  her  pretty 
things,  —  old  gowns  of  silk  and  satin,  and 
handsome  laces  and  fine  linens,  brought  all 
the  way  from  this  gay  land  of  vanities,  and 
which,  with  her  dainty  taste  to  help  me,  I 
fashioned  into  the  prettiest  frippery  that  ever 
a  young  bride  wore.  For  I  was  deft  of  finger 
in  those  days,  and  she  had  a  great  mind  to 
make  herself  bewitching  for  her  young  lover, 
though  I  doubt  not  she  would  have  been  fair 
to  him  in  any  garb,  as  fair  indeed  she  was. 

So  we  were  happy  in  our  secret  for  a  few 
short  weeks ;  at  least,  the  lady  Margaret 
was  so,  for  she  had  not  yet  learned  what 
trouble  may  come  of  loving.  They  who  see 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.  39 

these  things  with  wisdom  say  it  is  ever  so 
with  love ;  that  while  it  brings  a  brief  hour 
of  happiness  in  one  hand,  oft  in  the  other 
it  brings  a  lifetime  of  woe.  I  am  far  too 
unwise  to  understand  the  reason  of  it,  yet  I 
know  there  is  truth  in  the  words.  But  the 
Lady  Margaret  would  never  think  it,  and  I 
would  not  for  all  the  world  have  been  the 
one  to  undeceive  her. 

As  for  myself,  I  would  sometimes  feel  like 
the  veriest  villain  in  a  conspiracy,  if  per- 
chance I  came  upon  Monsieur  le  Marquis  on 
my  way  through  the  park,  and  he  gave  me  a 
kind  word  in  passing,  as  he  was  wont  to  do, 
for  he  was  a  true  nobleman,  his  pride  and 
temper  notwithstanding.  But,  the  saints  bless 
his  memory  !  he  never  once  suspected  my 
treason,  nor  guessed  one  half  the  thoughts 
that  lay  hidden  within  my  bonnet,  as  I  sa- 
luted him  with  due  humility.  Men  know  so 
little  of  women's  guile  that  I  verily  believe 
he  thought  the  Lady  Margaret  had  of  a  sud- 
den grown  submissive,  and  that  down  in  his 
heart  he  forgave  her,  and  repented  having 
been  so  stern  with  her.  For  she  was  turned 
as  sweet  and  docile  as  a  young  lamb,  and 


40  MY  LADY: 

had  no  look  of  misery  in  her  pretty  eyes,  as 
though  she  would  fain  die  of  thwarted  love. 
Far  from  it :  she  was  as  bright  and  rosy  and 
happy  as  any  maid  in  England,  —  too  happy, 
perhaps,  for  a  maiden  who  had  been  bidden 
to  banish  her  lover  and  never  speak  his  name 
again.  However  that  might  have  been,  she 
spoke  of  him  to  me  very  often,  and  wrote 
him  tender  missives  that  were  so  full  of  love 
and  joy  and  hope  that  I  wondered  if  such 
happiness  could  long  be,  in  a  world  which 
at  times  seems  meant  only  for  griefs.  Ah, 
how  soon  had  I  learned  to  be  afraid  of 
much  happiness  ! 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.  41 


CHAPTER   III. 


Lady  Margaret  con- 
tinued to  make  me 
frequent  visits  all 
that  autumn,  and 
often  her  lover 
came  also,  and  they 
would  take  this  time  for  all  their  love-mak- 
ing, and  they  were  happy  as  people  are  only 
once  in  their  lives,  albeit  they  pined  for 
each  other  wretchedly  between  whiles.  I 
cannot  tell  what  spirit  had  possession  of  me 
in  those  days,  but  I  felt  a  strange  keen 
pleasure  in  protecting  them  and  shielding 
their  love  from  those  that  had  a  right,  per- 
haps, to  forbid  it.  I  had  been  robbed  of 
so  much  myself  that  I  would  have  them  have 
their  full  share  of  love-making  and  mine, 
too,  for  the  matter  of  that,  while  they  might. 
But  certain  it  was  that  they  were  safe  and 


42  MY  LADY: 

happy  through  those  brief  sweet  hours,  till 
many  a  day  had  slipped  by,  and  no  one  was 
the  wiser,  not  even  my  dear  David ;  for  we 
chose  our  own  times  for  these  meetings,  and 
no  one  was  ever  less  observing  in  like  mat- 
ters than  was  my  brother  David. 

But,  if  you  will  believe  it,  the  surety  of 
happiness  soon  grew  too  tame  for  these  two 
eager  young  things,  and  on  some  pretext  or 
another  the  lover  must  hasten  away  from  Eng- 
land, and  the  Lady  Margaret  cannot  think 
of  his  going  without  her;  and  nothing  will 
do  but  they  must  be  wedded  in  secret,  and  I 
must  bring  the  matter  about  for  them  before 
the  next  Christmas-tide. 

I  thought  myself  wise  in  those  days,  for 
though  I  was  not  an  old  woman  as  I  am 
now,  I  had  lived  a  long  life ;  yet  I  doubt 
much  if  to-day  I  should  have  the  courage 
to  venture  upon  so  unadvised  a  thing  as  mar- 
rying a  man  and  a  maid  against  a  parent's 
wish. 

The  season  was  a  bleak  one,  as  the  late 
autumns  are  apt  to  be  in  our  northern  coun- 
try, and  more  than  usual  cold ;  a  raw  chill 
wind  blowing  from  the  coast,  and  howling 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.  43 

over  the  naked  hills,  bringing  with  it  a  rare 
smell  of  fallen  leaves  and  dying  flowers.  A 
cold  promise  of  snow  hung  in  the  gray 
clouds  overhead,  and  the  frisksomeness  of 
the  brown  squirrel  was  enough  to  warn  one 
that  a  sharp  winter  was  well  upon  us.  I 
dreaded  the  cold  perhaps  more  than  master 
squirrel,  because  a  cold  winter  meant  hard 
work  and  much  care  for  poor  David,  with 
the  cattle  and  the  sheep  left  without  pasture, 
and  everything  freezing  round  about  us. 
Then  there  was  always  more  suffering  and 
misery  throughout  the  country  in  the  wintry 
season,  for  many  of  our  village  folk  were 
poor  as  need  be,  and  some  were  feeble  or 
ailing,  and  my  very  heart  ached  to  think 
of  them. 

Now,  upon  a  certain  December  evening, 
the  time  and  scene  of  which  comes  back  to 
me  as  vividly  as  if  it  were  but  a  yesterday's 
happening,  I  was  sitting  beside  our  kitchen 
hearth  warming  myself  by  the  cheerful  blaze, 
while  a  dismal  tempest  raged  outside.  The 
cold  wind  was  whipping  the  bare  vines  across 
the  window-panes,  and  whirling  itself  around 
the  house  so  like  a  hurricane  that  every  dish 


44  MY  LADY: 

and  platter  rattled  from  its  place  in  the  cup- 
board. It  came  howling  down  the  gables 
and  chimney  with  a  mournful,  threatening 
sound  that  made  me  thank  God  I  had  a 
good  thatched  roof  above  my  head  and  a 
good  blazing  fire  before  me,  arid  plenty  of 
victuals  in  our  larders,  and  that  Mildred  was, 
at  that  very  minute,  cooking  up  the  savoriest 
of  suppers,  and  above  all,  that  I  had  a  dear 
good  brother  David,  who  would  soon  come 
in  with  a  tremendous  appetite,  to  eat  it.  I 
could  not  but  call  to  mind  all  these  blessings, 
I  say,  as  I  looked  out  upon  the  raw  and 
stormy  night,  and  I  tried  to  be  truly  grateful 
for  them.  For  I  was  apt  to  be  unmindful 
of  Heaven's  real  mercies,  while  dwelling 
selfishly  upon  grievances  which  David  was 
wont  to  call  my  romantic  rubbish. 

David,  it  need  scarce  be  said,  has  never 
known  the  mad  anguish  that  comes  of  lov- 
ing unwisely ;  for  though  younger  than  myself 
by  several  years,  he  has  always  been  older  in 
good  judgment.  He  knew,  but  little  of  wo- 
men's ways  of  feeling  in  those  days,  and 
mine,  perhaps,  least  of  all,  they  being  at 
times  incomprehensible  even  to  myself.  But 


A  STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.  45 

Heaven  knows,  I  love  him  none  the  less  for 
it ;  for  David  has  ever  been  a  good  brother 
to  me,  and  my  only  friend  in  the  days  when  I 
needed  friends  most.  Every  one  is  fond  of 
David,  he  is  so  strong,  so  honest,  so  kind  to 
those  about  him,  and  he  can  no  more  help  it 
than  the  sun  can  help  warming  the  places  on 
which  it  shines.  His  heart  is  so  big  that 
there  is  room  enough  in  it  for  every  one ; 
children  come  to  him  for  their  frolic,  young 
people  for  companionship,  and  older  ones 
for  advice,  and  he  can  help  us  all.  In  short, 
what  more  can  I  say  of  him  but  that  he  is 
the  best  of  brothers  ! 

That  night,  I  had  a  mind  to  take  a  basket 
of  victuals  and  some  warm  clothing  to  poor 
bedridden  Jenny  and  her  houseful  of  little 
ones,  as  I  feared  they  might  fare  worse  on 
account  of  the  increasing  cold,  having  little 
else  besides  one  another  to  keep  them  warm. 
And  I  was  dreading  the  journey  thither,  as  I 
always  do  a  sniff  of  frosty  air,  for  they  lived 
a  long  way  beyond  the  river,  when  in  came 
David,  whistling  and  puffing  in  his  hearty 
way,  as  he  brushed  the  flurries  of  new  snow 
from  his  great-coat.  As  I  might  have  ex- 


46  MY  LADY: 

pected,  he  forbade  my  stepping  out  on  such 
a  night  as  this,  and  said  at  once  that  he 
would  take  the  things  to  Jenny  himself,  and 
go  without  his  own  evening  meal,  rather  than 
that  they  should  want  an  hour  longer.  Now, 
this  was  a  stout  proof  of  David's  kind  heart, 
for  which  I  kissed  him,  knowing  what  a  great 
amount  of  room  there  was  inside  him  crying 
to  be  filled  up  after  a  long  day's  work  in  the 
sharp  brisk  air.  I  would  have  had  him  stop 
to  eat  his  own  supper  ere  he  started  out ;  but 
he  would  not,  fearing  the  poor  things  might 
have  gone  to  bed  hungry,  and  saying  his 
appetite  would  be  all  the  keener  for  a  good 
tramp  of  three  miles  or  more. 

Now,  as  luck  would  have  it,  David  did 
not  return  till  very  late  into  the  night ;  for 
when  he  reached  the  poor  widow's  hut,  and 
found  the  wind  whistling  through  every 
crack  and  chink  in  the  wall,  and  the  flakes 
of  snow  that  were  now  descending  upon 
everything  with  a  mad  sort  of  delight, 
driven  through  the  broken  panes,  what  does 
he  do  but  set  to  work  stopping  up  the 
chinks  with  straw,  and  nailing  boards  along 
the  cracks  and  broken  windows,  and  fetch- 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.  47 

ing  armful  after  armful  of  under-brush  and 
small  wood  from  along  the  river-bank. 
Then  he  makes  a  rousing  good  fire,  and 
warms  their  supper  for  them,  and  makes 
them  comfortable  for  the  night,  never  once 
thinking  of  the  hunger  gnawing  at  his  own 
belt-strings. 

I  remember  every  bit  and  part  of  it, 
through  these  five-and-twenty  years,  be- 
cause I  have  always  looked  upon  it  as  the 
doings  of  a  mysterious  fate  that  David 
should  have  been  kept  away  so  very  late 
that  night ;  for  during  his  absence  won- 
drous strange  things  took  place  which  I 
know  right  well  he  never  had  allowed,  had 
he  known  aught  of  them.  I  had  said  noth- 
ing to  him  of  the  Lady  Margaret's  doings, 
knowing  how  little  heart  he  set  by  all  such 
things,  and,  too,  because  she  had  made  me 
her  confidante,  and  begged  me  to  keep  her 
secret  well  from  every  one.  Dear,  unsus- 
pecting David  had  scarce  gone  out  beyond 
the  shadow  of  the  tall  elms  that  rose  about 
the  farm-house,  when  I  saw  by  the  light 
of  the  half-opened  door  where  I  stood  to  light 
him  out,  two  figures  coming  towards  me, 


48  MY  LADY: 

in  the  avenue  leading  from  the  Rookery, 
walking  as  slowly  as  though  it  had  been  a 
summer's  night,  and  as  unmindful  of  the 
storm  around  them  as  if  they  had  been 
treading  on  flowery  meadows  with  the 
harvest-moon  shining  down  upon  them. 
At  first  I  was  startled,  and  had  half  a  mind 
to  call  David  back,  when  of  a  sudden  I 
recognized  the  Lady  Margaret's  graceful 
shape,  even  through  the  fluttering  snow- 
drops, and  by  her  side  a  tall,  manly  figure, 
whose  face  I  could  not  see,  for  it  was  so 
much  in  the  shadow  with  leaning  down 
towards  hers,  but  whom  I  had  good  cause 
to  know  by  his  attitude.  I  had  not  time  to 
wonder  what  they  might  have  it  in  their 
mind  to  do  on  so  unpromising  a  night,  only 
to  feel  a  sudden  pall  come  over  me,  as  when 
a  serious  moment,  though  long  expected, 
has  come  indeed. 

The  next  minute  they  were  both  indoors, 
and  the  Lady  Margaret  had  thrown  off  her 
cloak,  and  stood  before  me,  looking  as  fair 
as  an  angel,  while  her  lover  could  do  naught 
but  stare  at  her,  and  drink  in  the  fulness 
of  her  loveliness  and  youth. 


A   STORY  OF  LONG   AGO.  49 

"  Dear  Mistress  Anne,"  she  said,  taking 
me  round  the  waist  with  both  arms  and  look- 
ing up  at  me  with  a  face  like  a  nosegay, 
"  we  are  come  here  to-night  to  be  married, 
if  you  please,  while  the  dear  good  David  is 
out,  and  to  receive  your  blessing." 

"  Blessings  upon  me  !  "  I  cried.  "  Come 
here  to  be  married,  on  such  a  night  as  this, 
and  in  my  humble  dwelling  !  My  love,  do 
I  hear  you  aright?  "  for  I  fell  into  great  per- 
plexity, and  could  scarce  believe  my  ears. 

"  Quite  right,"  rejoined  my  Lady,  laugh- 
ing outright  at  my  discomfiture.  "  And, 
dear  Anne,  the  parson  will  be  here  directly, 
for  we  have  been  to  him,  and  he  knows 
what  is  expected  of  him  to-night." 

"  The  parson  !  "  I  ejaculated.  "  Oh,  mer- 
ciful saints,  what  is  to  come  of  all  this  !  " 

"A  wedding,"  continued  she,  in  the  same 
excited,  playful  tones.  "A  wedding,  my 
dear,  and  you  must  make  ready  for  it.  I 
would  be  married  nowhere  save  in  this  little 
house  where  you  have  made  us  so  happy, 
dear  Anne,  and  with  no  one  to  witness  but 
your  own  good  self." 

"  My  sweet  child,"  said  I,  "  have  you 
4 


5°  MY  LADY: 

thought  of  the  night,  how  dark  and  wild  it 
is  ?  'T  is  such  an  ill  omen  to  be  wed  on  a 
stormy  night." 

"As  to  the  night,  good  Mistress  Anne,  the 
wilder  the  better ;  no  one  will  be  abroad. 
Now,  come,  make  ready,  dear ;  for  we  are 
in  great  haste." 

Here  my  wits  forsook  me  quite,  and  I  fell 
in  a  chair,  weeping  heartlessly,  as  though  at 
their  happiness. 

"  Pray,  do  not  grieve,  dearest,  dearest 
friend,"  she  cried,  coming  to  me  and  kiss- 
ing me  a  dozen  times.  "  You  know  that  I 
should  die  if  it  were  not  so.  My  love  is 
going  away  to-night,  and  I  must  go  with 
him.  You  have  promised  to  help  us,  and 
now  the  time  is  come.  Do  not  weep  for 
me,  dear  Anne ;  I  shall  always  remember 
you  and  love  you  for  the  comfort  you  have 
given  me." 

As  if  to  echo  her  words,  her  lover  came 
and  knelt  on  the  other  side  of  me,  and  took 
my  hand  and  kissed  it,  while  my  dear  Lady 
shed  a  few  tears  ;  it  was  in  truth  a  most  piti- 
ful scene,  and  one  happening  in  just  then 
might  have  thought  me  the  heroine  of  it. 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.  51 

Then  I,  comprehending  slowly  that  it  was 
their  firm  intention  to  be  wedded  ere  they  left 
my  presence,  did  summon  up  all  my  courage 
for  the  event,  only  making  a  little  resistance 
for  the  sake  of  appeasing  my  conscience. 

"But,  my  love,"  said  I,  "what  shall  I  say 
to  Monsieur  le  Marquis,  who  will  blame  me 
for  my  just  share  in  all  this?  " 

"  Not  so,  Mistress  Anne ;  my  father  will 
blame  no  one  but  me,  if  I  know  him  rightly. 
But  I  have  written  him  a  letter  telling  him 
everything,  and  asking  him  to  forgive  me  if 
he  can." 

"And  your  maid,  my  sweet  Lady,  how 
may  you  go  away  so  without  a  maid  ?  You 
must  surely  take  me  with  you,"  for  I  was 
ready  to  face  anything  rather  than  meet 
Monsieur  le  Marquis's  reproach,  and  the 
lonely  remorsefulness  that  would  come  there- 
after. 

"  Oh,  Mistress  Anne,"  said  my  Lady,  smiling 
again,  "  I  shall  not  need  a  maid,  you  know, 
for  I  am  not  to  be  a  great  lady,  but  a  simple 
gentleman's  wife ;  and  I  could  not  think  of 
taking  you  away  from  dear  David,  who  cannot 
do  without  you.  You  must  stay  with  him. 


52  MY  LADY: 

and  to  tell  me  how  my  father  bears  the  loss 
of  his  unruly  child." 

I  saw  a  look  of  regret  steal  into  her  lover's 
eyes  as  she  spoke  thus,  and  I  fancied  he  was 
thinking  of  all  that  she  was  giving  up  for 
love  of  him,  and  wondering  whether  he  was 
worth  it.  She  saw  it,  too,  and  ran  to  him, 
and  whispered  some  tender  things  that  were 
not  meant  for  my  ears,  I  fancy.  I  knew  very 
well  that  it  was  she  who  with  her  impetuous 
spirit  had  brought  this  all  about,  and  that  she 
would  force  me  to  think  it  right,  so  long  as 
it  made  them  both  happy. 

In  a  moment  more,  the  parson  came  in, 
surely  enough,  with  a  large  book  under  his 
arm,  and  a  look  of  ease  and  cheerful  expec- 
tancy, which  made  me  feel  at  once  less  guilty. 
I  have  no  doubt  the  worthy  man  heeded 
little  the  responsibility  of  the  thing,  and  was 
thinking  with  glee  only  of  the  bright  guineas 
that  would  reward  him  for  his  share  in  these 
doings,  and  perhaps  of  the  good  supper  to 
follow,  for  he  knew  my  talent  for  roasting  a 
fowl  or  seasoning  a  haunch  of  venison,  and 
had  tasted  many  a  savory  morsel  from  our 
larder;  for  if  there  ever  was  in  England  a 


A  STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.  53 

sanctific  with  a  ticklish  palate,  it  was  our 
parson  at  Wolverton. 

Before  I  could  well  collect  my  senses,  — 
for  it  was  all  done  in  a  twinkling,  —  my  Lady 
and  her  lover  stood  in  front  of  the  parson, 
and  there,  in  my  very  kitchen,  —  as  it  was 
there  we  had  the  best  fire,  —  in  the  face  of  all 
my  pans  and  kettles,  which,  I  am  proud  to  re- 
member, were  as  bright  and  clean  as  though 
furbished  up  for  the  occasion,  those  two  dar- 
ing young  creatures  were  wedded  one  to  the 
other,  and  were  the  happier  for  it  to  their 
short  life's  end.  The  Lady  Margaret  stood 
upright  and  graceful  as  a  white  lily,  looking 
brave  and  happy  throughout  the  ceremony, 
and  her  words  of  promise  were  clear  and 
strong  as  from  the  very  depths  of  her  young 
soul.  I  can  see  her  now  as  she  appeared  to 
me  that  night,  so  fearless,  so  reckless,  proud 
to  give  up  her  all  for  the  man  she  loved,  sur- 
rendering herself  to  his  keeping,  a  glad  pri- 
soner, living  for  him  alone,  ready  to  die  for 
him  as  she  had  said.  I  could  not  but  ad- 
mire the  brave  girl,  and  yet  marvel  at  the 
magic  power  of  such  love.  I  was  the  first 
to  take  her  in  my  arms  and  wish  her  a  whole 


54  MY  LADY: 

life's  happiness,  and  then  we  wrote  our  names 
in  the  book  which  the  parson  had  brought, 
and  it  was  all  over. 

Now,  let  those  who  will  condemn  me  for 
an  old  simpleton  and  a  sentimental  fool  for 
my  share  in  this  affair.  I  was  neither  so  old 
nor  so  wise  as  I  am  now,  I  have  said  it ;  yet 
now  I  think  on  it  again,  I  am  not  sure  that 
I  would  not  do  the  same  weak  thing  over 
to-day,  if  need  were.  And  as  for  any  that 
would  do  otherwise,  let  them  look  to  their 
own  hard-heartedness ;  that  is  all  I  have  to 
say  about  the  matter. 

Then,  what  else  could  I  do  but  give  them 
a  good  supper,  ere  they  set  out  on  their  wild 
journey,  —  the  good  supper  I  had  been  sav- 
ing for  David?  For  who  -ever  heard  of  a 
wedding  without  a  wedding- feast !  The  par- 
son partook  well  and  heartily  of  it,  and  in 
right  good  spirits,  too,  and  drank  much  of 
our  home-brewed  ale,  which  he  said  to  be 
the  very  finest  he  had  ever  tasted,  and  took 
the  whole  matter  with  so  much  unconcern, 
as  if  wedding  a  young  pair  secretly,  and  on 
the  Evil  One's  own  night,  were  his  chief 
employ,  and  a  most  righteous  act  withal. 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.  55 

But  the  good  parson  was  off  betimes, 
knowing  that  every  minute  was  precious. 
In  truth,  the  Lady  Margaret  had  but  the 
time  to  wrap  her  cloak  about  her,  and  say 
a  few  broken,  loving  words  to  me,  ere  the 
coach  came  to  take  them  away.  She  bade 
me  think  of  her  and  love  her  always,  saying 
I  had  been  her  dearest  friend,  and,  Heaven 
help  me  !  her  best  counsellor  !  Then  she 
was  gone,  leaning  upon  her  husband's  arm, 
her  face  like  an  April  sky,  full  of  tears  and 
smiles ;  out  into  the  snow  and  cold,  into  the 
wildness  of  that  dark  night.  I  stood  look- 
ing after  them  till  I  heard  the  closing  of  the 
coach  door,  and  the  tramping  of  the  horses 
die  away  in  the  storm,  and  then  I  turned 
and  found  myself  alone  once  more,  dazed 
and  stunned  like  one  waking  out  of  a  strange 
dream,  and  with  a  coldness  about  my  heart 
that  sickened  me. 

When  David  got  back  that  night,  there 
was  no  supper  left  for  him,  and  he  scolded 
not,  nor  did  he  make  any  inquiry  as  to  the 
reason  of  it,  knowing  by  my  face  and  eyes 
that  something  uncommon  had  happened. 
But  what,  and  how  much,  he  did  not  learn 


56  MY  LADY: 

till  some  days  after,  —  till  I  myself  told  him, 
for  very  need  of  his  great  strength  to  comfort 
me.  And  I  will  say  thus  much,  by  way  of  sing- 
ing David's  praises,  that  he  has  never  in  all 
his  life  quizzed  me  unduly  about  myself ;  and 
that  is,  perhaps,  the  way  in  which  he  has 
drawn  from  me,  one  after  another,  my  inner- 
most confidences. 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.  57 


CHAPTER   IV. 

COLD  winter  did 
come,  as  every  one 
expected  it  would, 
and  that  night  was 
the  beginning  of 
it.  All  through 
the  silent  hours 
I  lay  with  eyes  wide  open  staring  into  the 
dark,  not  able  to  lull  myself  into  an  hour's 
sleep,  for  thinking  of  what  had  happened 
and  trying  to  reconcile  myself  to  it.  I 
heard  the  fluff  of  the  large  snow-flakes 
heaping  themselves  on  every  window-ledge. 
When  I  arose  to  look  out  upon  the  early 
morning,  everything  was  wrapped  in  a  sheet 
of  white  snow ;  even  the  hedges  were  buried 
quite  out  of  sight,  and  the  trees  were  bend- 
ing low,  almost  to  the  ground,  with  the 
weight  of  ice  and  snow  upon  their  branches. 
And  still  the  white  spangles  fell  from  the 


5§  MY  LADY: 

leaden  skies  above,  cold  and  unceasing,  as 
if  bent  on  filling  every  crack  and  crevice 
round  about  us.  David  was  up  betimes, 
with  spade  and  shovel ;  and  with  our  farm- 
boy  to  hold  the  lantern  for  him,  he  soon 
cleared  the  paths  round  the  house,  and 
made  a  way  to  the  stables  and  barns  to  see 
how  the  cattle  and  poultry  had  fared  during 
the  night.  He  found  them  all  alive,  albeit 
somewhat  astonished  at  the  biting  frost. 
It  was  a  hard-working  season  for  poor 
David,  for  what  with  going  out  in  quest  of 
the  sheep,  some  of  which  lay  buried  in  the 
drifts  along  the  hillsides,  and  housing  the 
shivering  flock,  and  spiking  the  river  and 
ponds  in  the  thin  places,  to  get  them  water, 
for  every  stream  and  trough  had  a  good  coat 
of  ice  over  it,  there  was  enough  to  keep 
half  a  dozen  stout  farmers  like  David  from 
growing  weary  of  the  flight  of  time. 

I  could  not  tell  whether  it  was  more  to 
hide  his  thoughts  than  to  keep  his  young 
blood  warm  that  David  labored  with  such 
good  will  all  through  that  cold  season ;  but 
I  know  that  he  was  at  it  early  and  late, 
scarcely  taking  time  to  eat  his  meals,  and 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.  59 

coming  in  at  such  late  hours  of  an  evening 
that  he  was  always  too  tired  to  sit  and  talk 
with  me,  as  was  our  custom,  but  went 
straight  to  bed  instead,  and  left  me  to  my 
own  anxious  thoughts.  David's  heart  is  so 
tender,  for  all  his  yeoman's  strength  and 
silent  ways,  that  I  knew  right  well  he  did 
this  more  in  kindness  to  me  than  for  any 
other  reason  ;  for  he  was  not  long  in  guess- 
ing that  I  knew  more  of  the  Lady  Margaret's 
flight  than  I  had  cared  to  tell  him,  and 
he  knew,  too,  that  I  would  end  by  mak- 
ing a  clean  breast  of  everything  to  him, 
if  only  he  bided  his  time  in  silence  and 
patience. 

As  for  me,  I  was  so  oppressed  with  the 
weight  of  my  secret  that  the  days  and  nights 
that  followed  were  all  one  to  me  with  fret- 
ting, and  I  wondered  if  the  time  would  ever 
come  when  I  could  confess  what  I  had  done, 
and  either  be  absolved  or  punished  for  it, 
to  the  great  quietude  of  my  conscience. 

It  was  well-nigh  a  fortnight  before  I 
learned  to  my  satisfaction  how  the  Lady 
Margaret's  flight  had  affected  Monsieur  le 
Marquis,  and  what  the  folk  at  the  Rookery 


60  MY  LADY; 

thought  of  it  all.  I  had  not  seen  a  soul 
from  there  since  the  night  of  the  great 
storm,  the  paths  being  obstructed  by  such 
a  depth  of  snow ;  and  as  Mildred  was  just 
like  a  cat  for  going  near  the  cold  or  wet, 
and  I  had  reasons  for  not  venturing  thither 
myself,  David  had  done  all  the  going  to  and 
fro,  and  in  this  wise  had  learned  all  that  I 
was  pining  to  know.  But  David  was  as 
close-mouthed  as  a  sign-post,  and  I  could 
get  naught  from  him  without  questions,  and 
this  I  would  not  do  for  fear  of  committing 
myself.  So  I  waited  with  what  patience  I 
could,  till  I  myself  felt  brave  enough  to  go 
to  the  Rookery  on  some  pretext  or  other. 
But  I  found  no  pretext,  or  rather  would 
make  none ;  so  that  the  days  passed  and  we 
were  well  on  towards  the  Christmas-tide. 

Upon  a  quiet  Sunday  morning,  some- 
where near  that  period,  David  had  gone  to 
service  without  me,  for  I  durst  not  yet  look 
the  parson  in  the  face,  and  I  made  excuse 
for  staying  at  home  on  pretence  of  looking 
to  the  dinner,  which  I  always  tried  to  have 
a  bit  more  savory  of  a  Sunday,  to  reward 
David  for  his  good  week's  work.  It  was  a 


A  STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.  6 1 

glorious  day,  calm  and  bright,  and  steeped 
in  that  quiet  peace  which  rests  over  nature 
upon  a  country  Sabbath.  The  fresh-fallen 
snow  and  the  long  icicles  on  the  dark 
branches  shimmered  like  myriads  of  trem- 
bling crystals  in  the  morning  sunlight.  The 
little  sparrows,  whose  brown  coats  formed 
the  only  bit  of  color  on  the  pale  landscape, 
hopped  about  with  a  merry  twitter,  and 
everything  seemed  to  be  making  ready  for 
the  approaching  Christmas-feast.  I  looked 
towards  the  gray  gables  of  the  Rookery, 
emerging  through  the  sparkling  trees,  and 
wondered  sadly  how  it  was  with  Monsieur 
le  Marquis,  and  what  his  thoughts  might  be 
as  he  looked  out  upon  this  fair  morning. 
Was  he  thinking  of  the  daughter  who  had 
gone  from  him  in  his  old  age  and  left  him 
with  only  the  grief  of  his  wounded  pride? 
My  heart  smote  me  so  that  I  resolved  to  go 
to  him  now,  at  once,  without  another  day's 
waiting,  and  tell  him  what  I  had  done,  and 
beg  his  forgiveness  for  my  sweet  Lady  and 
me.  It  was  a  mad  thought,  though  good 
enough  of  purpose  ;  for  what  right  had  I, 
indeed,  to  go  to  Monsieur  de  Saint- Rambert 


62  MY  LADY: 

and  speak  to  him  of  his  grief,  or  to  come 
before  his  presence  without  being  asked? 
Monsieur  le  Marquis  was  a  very  high-born 
gentleman,  and  I  a  stupid  country  wench. 
What  business  of  mine  was  it  to  try  to  bring 
him  comfort?  True,  his  daughter  had 
made  a  friend  of  me,  bless  her  sweet  con- 
descension !  and  had  bidden  me  speak  well 
of  her  to  her  father,  —  and  how,  in  truth, 
could  I  have  done  otherwise  ?  But  Monsieur 
le  Marquis  was  in  no  mood  to  be  concili- 
ated, as  I  learned  afterwards,  and  I  had  every 
reason  to  be  thankful  that  I  was  interrupted 
by  a  sharp  rap  at  the  door,  just  as  I  was 
preparing  to  set  out  on  my  wild  errand. 
Of  course,  these  reflections  did  not  come 
to  me  till  David  came  home  from  church, 
and  we  had  talked  the  matter  over  sensibly, 
as  one  is  always  sure  to  do  when  talking  with 
him. 

As  if  in  response  to  the  thoughts  I  had 
been  pursuing,  whom  should  I  see  on  open- 
ing the  door,  but  Mistress  Hyde,  standing 
before  me,  a  grim  spectacle,  looking  blacker 
and  blinking  faster  than  ever?  I  knew  the 
minute  I  set  eyes  upon  her  that  she  was  in 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.  63 

what  we  were  wont  to  call  "  one  of  her  black 
moods."  For  though  she  held  so  fine  a 
place  in  Monsieur  le  Marquis's  household, 
every  one  there  knew  her  for  a  proud,  dis- 
dainful woman,  whom  Monsieur  de  Saint- 
Rambert  kept  in  his  home  only  for  her  great 
cleverness,  and  for  what  learning  she  might 
impart  to  his  young  daughter.  So,  wholly 
out  of  respect  for  him,  did  I  try  to  be  ami- 
able, though  Heaven  knows  she  was  the  last 
person  I  wished  to  see  !  I  courtesied  low, 
and  asked  her  how  she  did,  and  to  what 
good-fortune  I  owed  the  honor  of  a  visit 
from  her. 

"  To  your  own  treachery,  Mistress  Anne," 
she  replied,  in  tones  so  awful  that  I  thought 
surely  my  time  of  judgment  was  come. 

Woman-like,  I  pretended  not  to  under- 
stand the  meaning  of  her  words,  and  said 
quite  innocently,  "Treachery,  Mistress  Hyde  ? 
Pray  do  not  speak  in  riddles,  for  I  am  very 
stupid  at  guessing." 

"  You  are  a  wicked  creature,"  she  returned, 
still  blinking,  and  looking  hard  at  me  to 
make  me  feel  like  a  very  criminal.  "  How 
dare  you  talk  so  lightly  of  your  own  sin, 


64  MY  LADY: 

when  you  ought  to  blush  and  hide  your  face 
for  very  shame?  " 

"  I  know  not  what  sin  it  is  you  accuse  me 
of,"  I  said,  looking  her  full  in  the  eye,  and 
speaking  with  a  boldness  that  astonished  me, 
"  and  I  am  neither  so  clever  nor  so  ready  as 
yourself  to  say  sour  things,  but  I  would  have 
you  know,  Mistress  Hyde,  that  my  brother 
David  and  I  are  honest  folk,  and  well  re- 
spected in  our  village,  and  that  it  ill  be- 
hooves you  to  come  here  and  lay  any  such 
accusation  at  my  door." 

"  Oh,  you  need  not  grow  so  red  in  your 
defence  ! "  said  she,  with  an  ugly  curl  of  her 
lip,  for  I  doubt  not  I  had  waxed  a  bit  warm 
in  speaking,  and  my  fear  of  her  had  quite 
vanished.  "  I  know  well  that  the  Lady  Mar- 
garet was  with  you  a  deal  too  often  before 
she  left  her  father's  house." 

"The  Lady  Margaret  was  good  enough  to 
make  me  her  friend,"  I  replied,  with  a  cer- 
tain triumph  I  was  unable  to  repress. 

"  A  friend,  indeed  !  A  fine  friend  you 
have  been  to  her,  with  your  counsels  and 
confidences  !  What  has  come  of  it?  She 
has  deserted  her  home,  her  father,  and 


A   STORY  OF  LONG   AGO.  65 

better  friends  than  you,"  meaning  herself, 
"  for  a  vulgar,  low-born  man  of  your  choos- 
ing, perhaps." 

"  Enough  !  "  I  cried,  burning  with  indig- 
nation ;  "  it  is  not  here  that  you  will  speak 
ill  of  the  Lady  Margaret,  or  of  those  who 
are  dear  to  her.  Your  words  show  that  you 
are  speaking  in  ignorance.  If  you  are  come 
to  question  me  and  satisfy  your  own  curi- 
osity, you  have  made  a  grievous  error,  for 
I  shall  be  the  last  to  enlighten  you  upon  any 
of  my  Lady  Margaret's  doings." 

She  bit  her  lips,  seeing  I  had  guessed  her 
purpose  too  readily,  and  glared  at  me  furi- 
ously, growing  darker  and  more  unsightly 
every  minute  with  the  envious  passion  that 
moved  her.  I  thought,  as  I  looked  at  her, 
that  I  had  never  beheld  anything  so  fearful 
as  an  angry  woman.  Jealousy,  malice,  and 
hatred  were  stamped  upon  her  countenance, 
and  made  her  seem  a  very  fiend.  Heaven 
knows,  she  was  never  too  good  to  look  at ; 
but  that  day  she  stood  before  me  like  a  fear- 
ful lesson,  a  warning  to  me  to  rein  my  temper, 
and  quell  the  angry  fire  that  would  rise  in  my 
5 


66  MY  LADY: 

heart  at  times,  and  smother  it,  ere  it  had 
time  to  make  a  devil  of  me. 

"  If  I  can  serve  you  in  naught  else,"  said  I, 
quietly,  "  I  shall  be  happy  to  wish  you  a 
good-morning." 

"  You  are  an  impertinent  hussy,"  retorted 
she,  with  the  lofty  disdain  of  a  vanquished 
enemy ;  "  you  shall  have  cause  to  regret  all 
you  have  done,  as  well  as  what  you  have 
said  to  me  to-day ;  "  and  without  so  much  as 
a  glance  at  me,  she  walked  out,  slamming 
the  door  hard  after  her. 

When  she  was  gone,  I  seemed  to  have  no 
strength  left ;  I  fell  into  a  chair  and  wept 
aloud  for  a  full  quarter-hour.  It  was  in  this 
state  that  David  found  me  on  his  return 
from  church,  and  then  there  was  nothing  to 
do  but  to  confess  everything,  and  this  I  did 
without  fear  of  being  hardly  dealt  with  by 
him.  I  was  not  mistaken  ;  for  when  he  had 
listened  to  all  I  had  to  say,  he  looked  grave 
only  for  a  moment,  and  then  he  took  my 
head  between  his  hands  and  said  in  his 
kindly  voice,  — 

"  You  have  done  unwisely,  sister  Anne,  it 
cannot  be  gainsaid,  but  be  it  far  from  me 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.  67 

to  reproach  you  for  a  too  tender  heart.  I 
cannot  think  that  you  are  a  great  sinner,  nor 
yet  a  traitor,  nor  any  of  the  things  which 
Mistress  Hyde  has  called  you;  but,  sister 
mine,  away  with  your  romantic  notions ;  they 
will  play  you  a  deal  of  mischief  yet,  have  I 
not  said  so  oft  ?  " 

"  Yes,  David,  many  a  time  before ;  but 
you  can  never  understand  me  in  these  feel- 
ings, for  you  have  never  loved  in  the  way 
that  makes  people  do  foolish  things.  And 
though  I  am  old  enough  to  be  wiser,  I  — 
well,  I  cannot  forget,  that  is  all." 

He  looked  at  me  kindly,  as  if  to  beg  my 
pardon  for  nearing  a  tender  subject,  and 
then  we  laid  the  matter  aside  for  that  day. 
But  it  was  from  him  that  I  learned  later 
what  the  state  of  things  was  yonder  at  the 
Rookery,  for  he  had  heard  much  during  his 
daily  visits  thither.  Poor  Monsieur  le  Mar- 
quis was  indeed  sorely  grieved,  and  I  was 
doubly  so  to  learn  of  it.  The  servants  at 
the  house  said  that  all  night  he  walked  his 
chamber,  talking  low  to  himself,  and  all  day 
he  sat  by  his  window  and  spoke  never  a 
word.  It  was  so  unlike  him  to  take  any  dis- 


68 


MY  LADY: 


appointment  in  this   calm   despairing  way, 
that  they  were  all  frightened,  and  knew  not 
what  to  think  of  it.     He  had  not  uttered  a 
single  angry  word,  or  spoken  of  his  sorrow 
to   any  one.     He    had   been  seen   to  read 
the  L<ady  Margaret's 
letter  on  the  morn- 
ing after  her  depart- 
ure,   and    then    he 
had  thrown  it  into 
the  flames,  and  sat 
with  his  head  buried 
in  his   hands   until 
the     candles    were 
brought    in  that 
evening.      No   one 
dared    to    speak 

aloud,  and  the  house  was  as  if  there  had  been 
a  death  in  it. 

Now,  Mistress  Hyde  was  doubtless  much 
chagrined  at  not  having  been  taken  into  Mon- 
sieur le  Marquis's  confidence,  and  perhaps 
more  so  at  having  lost  her  pupil,  and  thereby 
her  place  in  the  Saint-Rambert  household. 
She  had  waited  as  long  as  she  had  patience 
for  a  word  from  him,  and  then  had  come  to 


A    STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.  69 

see  what  she  might  learn  from  me,  as  the  most 
likely  person  to  be  suspected,  and  one  on 
whom  to  vent  her  rage.  She  had  borne  me 
no  good-will  ever  since  the  Lady  Margaret 
had  first  taken  to  running  over  to  the  farm  and 
to  me  for  companionship,  and  she  had  spared 
no  chance  of  showing  her  feelings.  Had  she 
been  a  different  woman,  —  a  woman  with  a 
tender  nature,  as  every  woman's  should  be, — 
I  had  told  her  everything  that  morning,  for 
very  need  of  woman's  help  and  woman's 
sympathy  in  shouldering  the  burden  of  my 
responsibility,  and  mayhap  through  her  aid 
the  Lady  Margaret  and  her  father  had  been 
reconciled.  But  I  knew  well  that  her  only 
thought  was  for  self,  as  her  ill-concealed  rage 
plainly  showed,  and  I  would  have  died  sooner 
than  give  her  a  word  of  satisfaction  against 
my  sweet  Lady. 

It  may  have  been  a  fortnight  or  more  later 
when  she  betook  herself  out  of  Wolverton, 
leaving  but  scanty  regrets  behind  her;  and 
I  have  never,  to  this  day,  laid  eyes  on  her 
again,  to  my  great  contentment,  though  she 
did  vow  eternal  vengeance  upon  me  the  last 
time  we  took  leave  of  one  another. 


70  My  LADY: 

About  the  rest  of  that  winter  I  remember 
but  little,  save  that  at  Christmas-time  some 
sweet  remembrances  came  to  me  from  the 
Lady  Margaret,  and  a  letter  which  carried 
so  many  loving  wishes  to  us,  and  spoke  of 
so  much  happiness,  that  it  broke  in  upon  us 
like  a  streak  of  sunlight  and  set  my  mind  at 
peace  for  many  a  day  thereafter.  As  for 
poor  Monsieur  le  Marquis,  I  could  never 
learn  what  his  real  thoughts  were,  for  he 
bore  his  trouble  in  pitiful  silence.  As  long 
as  the  snows  covered  the  ground,  he  still  sat 
by  his  fire  alone,  thinking  gloomily;  and 
when  the  springtime  came,  he  drove  out  in 
the  park  or  walked  in  his  garden,  with  his 
white  head  up  and  his  hands  clasped  behind 
him,  looking  very  grave  and  forbidding. 

At  the  end  of  that  summer  he  went  back 
to  the  old  chateau  near  Avignon,  in  his  be- 
loved Provence.  For  now  that  he  was  alone, 
he  feared  not  what  his  wild  and  revolutionary 
generation  might  do  with  an  old  man  like 
him.  He  would  go  to  his  own  country,  in 
spite  of  its  dangers  and  terrors,  and  live  the 
few  years  that  were  left  him  in  the  beautiful 
land  where  he  had  once  been  happy. 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.  71 

Then  the  years  -slipped  away  quietly,  as 
the  years  are  apt  to  do  for  simple  country- 
folk like  David  and  me  ;  for  there  was  very 
little  stirring  in  our  village,  save  the  news 
that  came  from  abroad  of  the  glorious  deeds 
of  the  new  republic,  and  even  that  seemed 
very  far  to  us  at  Wolverton.  David  worked 
hard  at  the  farm,  troubling  himself  but  little 
with  politics,  which,  he  declared,  a  man  could 
not  do  without  damaging  his  trade  and  his 
conscience  ;  and  the  affairs  of  kingdoms  were 
not  one  half  so  consequent  to  him  as  the 
good  harvests  he  was  reaping,  and  the  fine 
sheep  and  poultry  he  sent  each  year  to  mar- 
ket. And  I,  trying  to  do  my  duty  by  him, 
as  every  good  sister  should,  attended  to  the 
house  matters  and  made  him  comfortable ; 
for  David,  like  all  strong  men,  loves  nothing 
better  than  the  care  and  coddling  of  a  woman, 
and  all  my  thought  was  for  him.  The  time 
soon  came,  however,  when  I  was  forced  to 
give  a  place  in  my  heart  to  others ;  hence 
if  I  speak  of  him  but  little  hereafter  in  the 
spinning  out  of  my  story,  you  may  be  sure 
that  I  shall  think  of  him  and  love  him  none 
the  less. 


72  MY  LADY: 


CHAPTER  V. 

WICE  the  young  robins 
had  built  their  nests  in 
the  vines  that  clam- 
bered about  the  win- 
dows of  the  Rookery, 
and  twice  the  sharp  winds  of  December 
had  driven  them  away,  before  the  Lady 
Margaret  returned  to  our  little  town  of 
Wolverton ;  but  those  two  short  years  had 
brought  her  the  greatest  sorrow  that  falls 
to  woman.  Scarcely  had  she  had  time  to 
taste  of  her  new  happiness,  when  the 
young  husband  was  summoned  away  to  join 
the  wars  that  were  raging  throughout  the 
country  at  that  time.  Ah  me  !  many  and 
many  a  heart  was  made  desolate  then,  but 
none  so  desolate  as  my  poor  Lady's.  She 
told  me  afterwards  how,  in  those  last  few 
moments  before  parting,  she  had  clung  to 
him,  feeling  in  some  vague,  despairing  way 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.  73 

that  she  should  never  look  upon  him  more. 
But  he,  so  young  and  full  of  life  and 
strength,  had  left  her  with  only  words  of 
promise  and  of  hope.  Alas  !  they  were,  in- 
deed, his  last  farewell  to  her  on  earth. 

Ere  the  first  snows  had  covered  his  far- 
away resting-place,  a  little  comforter  came 
to  the  sorrowing  young  wife,  —  a  wee,  tender, 
nestling  creature,  who  very  soon  filled  a 
place  in  all  our  hearts.  Now,  this  was  "  My 
Lady ; "  for  so  we  have  called  her  ever  since, 
for  her  sweet  young  mother's  sake,  and  be- 
ing myself  fond  of  our  good  old  English 
titles  which  mean  so  much  to  me.  This 
winsome  babe,  I  say,  was  she  whom  I  still 
call  my  darling  and  my  Maidie,  and  a  most 
dear  maid  is  she. 

When  the  Lady  Margaret's  trouble  came, 
she  had  turned  to  me  for  help  and  comfort ; 
for  whom  had  she  else  now  to  help  her 
bear  this  grief,  save  me,  who  had  seen  her 
in  the  fulness  of  her  joy,  and  beheld  her  in 
this  hour  of  deepest  sorrow?  It  was  in  the 
springtime  that  she  came  to  me,  when  the 
roses  were  just  returning,  and  our  little  town 
was  gay  with  flowers  and  sunshine,  as  it  is 


74  MY  LADY: 

always  in  the  summer-time,  to  atone  for  its 
bleakness  and  dreariness  in  the  winter.  It 
was  then  that  she  and  her  little  child  came 
to  us.  I  remember  to  this  day,  though 
many  years  have  passed  between,  how  white 
and  tearful  she  looked  as  she  stepped  into 
the  garden,  turning  about  her  to  see  every- 
thing as  she  had  left  it,  save  that  now  she 
was  widowed  and  desolate,  and  all  the  sun- 
light in  nature  could  not  warm  the  winter  in 
her  heart.  Yet  when  she  greeted  me  her 
sweet  face  broke  into  a  smile,  as  though  at 
having  found  a  haven  of  peace.  The  little 
one  in  her  arms,  too,  seemed  to  know  that 
she  was  a  welcome  little  guest,  and  cooed  and 
laughed  at  me  so  merrily  that  I  straightway 
took  it  from  its  mother's  arms,  and  from 
that  time  claimed  all  care  of  it ;  and  the 
baby  Llora  seemed  to  belong  to  me  as  much 
as  to  her  young  mamma.  In  truth,  she  has 
been  my  one  thought  and  joy  ever  since  the 
day  when  she  was  left  wholly  to  my  keeping. 
For  though  at  first  the  change  had  seemed 
to  brighten  the  Lady  Margaret's  spirit,  yet 
as  the  days  wore  on  her  face  grew  thinner 
and  whiter,  and  I  could  not  but  see,  with 


A  STO&Y  OF  LONG  AGO.        75 

fainting  heart,  that  she  too  would  soon  be 
taken  away.  There  are  those  whom  grief 
kills,  and  she  was  such  a  one,  I  know.  So 
hopeful,  so  overflowing  with  life  as  she  had 
been  in  the  time  of  her  happiness,  the  cruel 
blow  had  come  upon  her  suddenly  and 
crushed  her  quite. 

Ofttimes  she  would  walk  over  to  the 
Rookery,  now  lonely  and  deserted,  and 
spend  her  mornings  about  the  old  place, 
recalling  the  years  she  had  spent  there  and 
all  their  tender  memories,  with  fresh  tears. 
And  then  she  would  come  home  and  speak 
to  me  of  her  father,  wondering  if  he  would 
not  soften  toward  her  if  he  knew  of  her  grief. 
"  I  must  write  to  him,  must  I  not  ?  and  beg 
him  for  my  little  child's  sake  to  receive  me. 
He  cannot  withhold  his  pardon  from  me 
now.  It  is  not  for  myself  I  would  ask  it, 
for  I  know  that  I  have  but  a  short  while  to 
live  here  without  my  beloved,  but  for  my  lit- 
tle daughter  whom  he  must  love.  And  you, 
Mistress  Anne,  you  will  care  for  her,  and  be 
near  her  always,  will  you  not?  Promise  me, 
dearest  friend,  that  you  will  not  leave  her  to 
another's  care  when  I  am  gone."  And  she 


7<$  MY  LADY: 

would  sob  and  weep  upon  my  neck  in  utter 
wretchedness. 

Then  I  would  try  to  turn  her  from  such 
dismal  thoughts,  and  to  cheer  her  with  the 
hope  that  Monsieur  le  Marquis  would  surely 
relent,  and  send  for  her  and  my  little  Lady 
to  come  back  to  the  old  chateau  and  live 
with  him  many  years  happily,  and  that  I 
would  follow  her  thither  if  need  were  ;  for  I 
knew  that  Monsieur  le  Marquis  loved  his 
daughter  exceedingly  in  spite  of  his  terrible 
pride,  and  that  he  might  be  moved,  if  she 
did  but  humble  herself  enough  to  ask  for 
pardon.  But  she  would  only  smile  at  me 
through  her  tears,  and  shake  her  head  unbe- 
lievingly. Yet  the  thought  of  writing  to  her 
father  having  once  taken  hold  of  her,  she 
could  think  of  nothing  else  till  it  was  done. 
The  Lady  Margaret  knew  that  she  was  well- 
born. She  had  come  to  England  very  young, 
but  she  still  remembered  the  fine  old  cha- 
teau and  her  father's  lands  in  Provence,  and 
in  her  misfortune  her  mind  had  dwelt  with 
fondness  on  the  old  scenes  of  her  own  child- 
hood, and  she  had  hoped  that  her  child 
would  also  learn  to  call  it  home. 


A  STOKY  OF  LONG  AGO.  77 

One  evening  she  sat  down  and  wrote 
Monsieur  le  Marquis  a  long  and  eloquent 
letter,  which  she  read  to  me  when  it  was 
done.  Ah,  such  a  letter  as  that  was  !  I  had 
never  read  its  like.  It  was  not  humble  or 
penitent,  look  you,  for  she,  too,  was  a  Saint- 
Rambert,  and  none  of  that  name  had  ever 
been  suspected  of  humility.  She  held  to 
the  very  last  that  she  had  done  rightly  in 
giving  herself  to  the  man  she  loved.  But  it 
was  a  beautiful  letter,  proud  and  well-spo- 
ken, such  as  only  his  child  could  write, 
and  which  should  have  moved  Monsieur  le 
Marquis,  forsooth  !  She  asked  no  pity  save 
for  the  fatherless  babe  who  was  as  innocent 
as  it  was  helpless,  and  who  would  be  the  one 
to  suffer  by  his  refusal. 

As  soon  as  the  letter  was  sealed  and  gone, 
her  spirits  seemed  to  revive  a  little  as  with 
expectation  of  what  would  be  the  result  of 
it.  Her  mind  dwelt  upon  it  hourly  through 
the  day,  wondering  how  long  a  time  it  would 
be  ere  it  reached  Monsieur  le  Marquis,  what 
he  would  think  when  he  received  it,  and  how 
he  would  reply  to  it,  if  he  did  at  all,  and  how 
soon  !  Unhappily  in  those  days  it  took  a 


78  My  LADY: 

weary  time  for  a  message  to  go  across  the 
Continent,  and  in  these  times  of  strife  and 
turmoil  the  couriers  travelled  slowly,  and 
often  were  prevented  from  passing  the  bor- 
ders. A  scrap  of  paper  with  a  noble  name 
upon  it  stood  every  chance  of  being  snatched 
up  by  some  rabid  malcontent,  and  burned 
like  some  dire  instrument  of  witchcraft.  I 
strove  to  make  her  see  all  the  uncertainty 
there  was  in  it,  that  she  might  not  hope  too 
much  and  mayhap  come  to  disappointment. 
But  the  hope  that  had  ever  been  so  strong 
in  her  and  was  now  her  very  food,  kept  her 
alive  through  many  a  long  day  of  waiting. 

All  unconscious  of  any  trouble  around  her, 
our  little  Maidie  grew  wondrous  fast,  even  as 
a  young  flower-bud  opens  each  day  beneath 
the  eye  of  summer.  Very  soon  her  childish 
prattle  filled  the  house  from  morn  to  even- 
ing. Such  a  rose  of  a  babe  I  had  never 
seen.  Her  eyes  were  the  color  of  deep  pur- 
ple pansies,  and  soon  began  to  show  by  their 
sparkling  fire  all  the  mischief  that  was  in  her ; 
while  her  yellow  Welsh  locks  would  have 
made  you  think  her  a  veritable  little  cherub, 
Scarce  more  than  a  year  was  gone,  and  she 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.  79 

was  as  nimble  on  her  feet  as  a  young  kitten, 
and  she  ran  away  from  us  so  often  that  my 
hair  began  to  turn  gray  from  that  time. 
Bless  her  dear  soul,  and  mine  too,  it  makes 
me  almost  young  to  think  of  her  in  those 
days,  —  how  we  used  to  hunt  for  her  in  garret 
and  cellar,  in  the  kitchen-garden,  and  out 
among  the  hay-ricks,  and  then,  as  likely  as 
not,  David  would  come  home  with  her  on 
his  great  shoulder,  having  found  her  in  the 
wheat-field,  her  small  round  head  just  peep- 
ing above  the  young  blades,  and  she,  think- 
ing it  all  great  frolic,  would  hold  out  her 
hands  full  of  red  poppies  which  she  had 
plucked,  for  she  was  ever  passionately  fond 
of  bright  things,  and  put  up  her  small  mouth 
to  be  kissed,  feigning  all  innocence  ;  where- 
upon we  would  take  her  in  our  arms  by 
turns,  her  mother  and  I,  and  kiss  her  for 
all  punishment,  and  thus  began  her  early 
training. 

The  chickens  and  the  geese  were  one  of 
her  pet  delights ;  she  would  whirl  in  the 
midst  of  them  with  arms  outstretched  like  a 
small  windmill,  for  the  sake  of  seeing  them  run 
and  hearing  their  disordered  cackle.  There 


80  MY  LADY: 

was  also  the  big  white  rooster  with  an  espe- 
cially fine  red  comb  which  pleased  my  little 
Lady  exceedingly.  She  loved  to  follow  after 
him,  albeit  very  cautiously,  her  face  glowing 
with  excitement,  till  master  cock  would  of  a 
sudden  turn  upon  her  and  give  a  loud  and 
piercing  crow.  Then  she  would  be  so  star- 
tled that  she  would  fain  run  and  hide  her- 
self in  Mildred's  apron,  laughing  all  the 
while,  and  yet  never  tiring  of  the  game. 

I  very  soon  saw  in  her  the  strong  de- 
termined spirit  that  had  been  her  young 
mother's.  She  would  have  her  little  way, 
and  no  other,  and  was  mistress  of  us  all,  and 
David  was  her  veriest  slave.  It  was  he  who 
fell  into  the  way  of  calling  her  my  Lady  and 
her  Ladyship,  because  of  her  little  airs  of 
grandeur,  and  the  fine  way  in  which  she 
ordered  folk  about.  If  she  had  not  had  the 
sweet,  loving,  beautiful  nature  that  is  hers, 
she  would  have  been  a  spoiled  child  ere 
this  day  of  my  writing  her  story.  But  there 
was  that  about  her  which  made  everybody 
love  her  in  spite  of  her  many  pranks.  For 
she  grew  in  mischief  as  well  as  in  years,  as 
every  wholesome  child  must  do,  only  that 


-HMA- 


"  David  would  come  home  with  her  on  his  great 
shoulder." 


A    STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.  83 

there  was  plenty  of  good  in  her  to  counter- 
balance, when  the  right  time  came.  What 
a  little  witch  she  was  at  times,  to  be  sure  ! 
Her  eyes  were  always  darker  when  she  was 
pondering  some  new  roguishness,  and  they 
shone  like  the  brightest  of  jewels  in  their 
halo  of  yellow  curls.  Her  little  teeth  were 
sharp  and  white,  and  she  was  fond  of  show- 
ing them  when  things  did  not  quite  suit  her 
babyship.  And  I  used  always  to  say,  when 
I  saw  her  at  it,  that  little  head  will  take  it 
into  itself  to  do  something  crazy  some  day. 
Such  a  strong  will  and  such  impossible  de- 
sires I  had  never  seen  in  child  before.  Such 
force  in  that  small  white  fist  when  she  doubled 
it  up  and  shook  it  at  me,  if  haply  I  pulled 
one  of  her  hairs  in  dressing  her  yellow  locks  ! 
If  I  tried  to  chicle  her  for  her  ill-behaving, 
she  would  turn  upon  her  tiny  heels,  and 
make  a  grimace  at  me.  Then  I  would  feign 
to  grieve  and  cry,  putting  my  apron  before 
my  eyes,  and  this  would  send  her  flying  back 
to  me,  repentant  and  good ;  so  that  I  could 
only  catch  her  up  and  cover  her  with  kisses, 
and  could  not  for  the  life  of  me  have  helped 
loving  the  winsome,  playful  child. 


84  MY  LADY: 

But  with  the  Lady  Margaret  she  was  ever 
sweet  and  gentle,  seeming  to  feel,  without 
knowing  it,  that  the  pale  young  mother  was 
weak  and  sorrowful,  and  must  not  be  troubled 
with  noise  and  prattle.  I  would  see  her  sit 
beside  her  mother  for  a  long  time  without 
speaking,  just  watching  her  with  a  look  of 
innocent  inquiry  in  her  baby  face,  as  though 
wondering  why  she  seemed  so  far  away.  It 
was  the  beginning  of  that  earthly  separation, 
I  think,  which  came  so  very  soon,  and  left 
my  little  Lady  with  only  a  lowly  friend  like 
me  to  love  and  mother  her. 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.  85 


CHAPTER    VI. 

PASSED  with  no  great 
change  in  our  quiet 
life.  David  had  gathered 
in  another  harvest,  and 
another  bleak  winter 
was  upon  us ;  but  not  a 
word  had  come  from 
Provence.  I  was  not  so  surprised  as  I 
was  grieved  for  my  poor  Lady's  sake.  I 
knew,  and  none  else  better,  the  pangs  of 
feverish  hope  and  bitter  disappointment 
which  she  suffered  every  day  and  every 
week  that  passed.  Never  did  a  rap  sound 
at  the  door  but  her  heart  leaped  at  it ; 
never  did  she  hear  an  unfamiliar  voice  in 
the  house,  but  she  started  as  if  with  the 
thought  that  the  thing  she  waited  for  so 
eagerly  was  come  to  her  at  last.  And  as 
each  day  closed  with  her  hope  unfulfilled, 
§he  went  to  her  bed  weaker  and  sadder,  and 


86  MY  LADY: 

I  could  not  mistake  but  see  how  very  frail 
she  grew,  and  how  slender  was  the  thread 
by  which  her  young  life  held.  I  spoke  of 
my  fears  to  David,  and  finding  that  he 
shared  them,  I  sat  down  and  wrote  a  letter 
myself  to  Monsieur  de  Saint-Rambert,  tell- 
ing him  of  his  daughter's  low  state,  and  all 
the  pitiful  things  I  could  bring  my  wits 
to  think  of.  I  hoped  to  touch  his  proud 
old  heart;  for  in  those  days  my  pen  was 
glibber  than  my  tongue,  and  I  could  plead 
for  her  as  she  would  ne'er  have  done  for 
herself.  But  I  said  not  a  word  to  the  Lady 
Margaret  about  my  doing  this,  fearing  to 
raise  her  hopes  a  second  time  without  just 
reason  to  do  so. 

It  was  now  my  turn  to  live  in  fretful  im- 
patience. How  the  time  went  between  the 
writing  of  that  letter  and  the  happenings  at 
the  close  of  that  year,  I  know  not ;  but  I 
know  that  it  seemed  an  endless  time  to  me, 
though  I  had  much  to  busy  my  hands  with 
and  to  keep  my  mind  from  vain  imaginings. 

On  the  last  day  of  the  old  year  the  Lady 
Margaret  did  not  rise  from  her  bed. 
It  was  a  Sunday,  and  on  my  return  from 


A   STORY  Of   LONG  AGO.  87 

early  service  I  slipped  into  her  room  with  a 
nosegay  and  a  cup  of  tea,  as  1  was  wont  to 
do  of  a  morning.  When  I  looked  down  at 
her  white  worn  face,  I  saw  she  had  not 
closed  her  eyes  in  sleep  that  night.  There 
was  a  strange  fixedness  in  them  that  made 
my  heart  leap  of  a  sudden.  She  held  out 
her  hand  to  me,  and  the  faintest  smile 
moved  her  lips  as  she  repeated  her  daily 
inquiry. 

"  No  news  from  my  father,  good  Mistress 
Anne?" 

She  had  come  to  put  the  question  so,  as 
if  fully  expecting  a  negative  answer.  "  Not 
yet,  my  sweet  Lady ;  but  mayhap  there 
will  be  something  coming  to-morrow  to 
gladden  the  New  Year  for  us  all." 

"The  New  Year,"  she  repeated  dreamily; 
"  and  how  soon  is  it,  Mistress  Anne  ?  " 

"  To-morrow,  my  precious.  It  is  not  long 
to  wait." 

"  Then  I  fear  me  I  shall  not  see  it,  dear 
friend,  for  I  am  very  weak  to-day." 

If  I  had  sought  to  hide  the  real  fear  that 
was  in  me,  or  to  hush  her  forebodings,  which 
I  felt  to  be  but  too  true,  it  had  been  mock- 


88  MY  LADY: 

ery  at  this  solemn  hour.  I  took  her  hand  in 
mine  and  kissed  it,  and  the  tears  rushed  to 
my  eyes. 

"  I  had  a  strange  waking  dream  in  the  night, 
Mistress  Anne,"  she  went  on,  without  seem- 
ing to  heed  me.  "  I  heard  my  dear  father's 
voice  calling  me  many  and  many  a  time,  as 
if  in  distress,  and  suddenly  I  was  close  beside 
him.  I  thought  he  had  forgiven  me,  and 
held  me  in  his  arms  as  he  used  to  do  when 
I  was  a  little  child,  and  said  that  we  should 
part  no  more." 

"  It  is  because  your  mind  has  dwelt  much 
on  Monsieur  le  Marquis  of  late,"  I  answered. 

"  Perhaps,  perhaps ;  but  it  was  so  strangely 
real,  and  I  cannot  turn  my  thoughts  from  it. 
Do  you  think  that  he  will  love  me  again, 
when  he  knows  that  I  am  gone,  and  that  he 
will  receive  my  little  child?  " 

"  Sure,  sure  he  will,  my  love  ;  how  could  he 
help  it  when  he  sees  the  winsome  thing?  " 

"  Then  you  will  go  with  her  to  my  father's 
home,  to  remain  with  her  and  love  and 
protect  her  until  —  until  —  " 

"  All  my  life,"  I  cried,  taking  the  sob- 
bing head  on  my  bosom,  "  until  I  myself 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.  89 

am  taken  from  her  by  God's  hand.  I  will 
follow  her  wherever  her  lot  is  cast,  trust 
me,  and  be  her  devoted  servant  to  my  life's 
end.  Have  you  not  given  her  to  my  care, 
and  who  else  can  love  her  better?  " 

The  Lady  Margaret  looked  at  me  grate- 
fully, and  from  that  hour  she  spoke  no  more. 
But  there  was  something  in  her  quiet  face 
that  told  me  she  was  now  at  peace.  All 
that  day  and  the  night  that  followed  I  sat 
at  her  bed's  foot  watching  the  light  die  out 
of  that  fair  young  life ;  and  ere  the  rosy 
morning  of  the  New  Year  had  dawned  upon 
the  sleeping  town  the  Lady  Margaret  had 
met  her  husband  in  a  world  where  griefs 
and  sorrows  are  not,  and  where  all  is  for- 
gotten in  the  tide  of  an  imperishable  love. 

I  shall  not  dwell  on  the  sad  days  that 
followed,  for  why  should  I  afflict  you  with 
such  sad  memories,  when  my  purport  is  only 
to  please  you?  Yet  every  tale,  as  well  as 
every  life,  has  its  sad  pages ;  for  what  is 
life  made  of  else  than  tears  and  smiles? 
I  am  not  skilled  enough  in  the  art  of  story- 
writing  to  know  how  to  leave  out  the  ones 


90  MY  LADY: 

and  bring  forth  the  others.  All  I  know  is 
that  I  am  telling  you  these  things  in  ray 
darling's  life  just  as  they  happened,  and  just 
as  I  remember  them,  thanking  Heaven  all 
the  while  that  these  gloomy  days  came,  as 
they  did,  at  the  beginning  of  her  life,  when 
she  was  yet  too  young  to  know  the  true 
sadness  of  them.  Heaven  is  witness  that  I 
speak  truly  when  I  say  that  ever  since  that 
day  my  Maidie  has  never  lacked  for  the 
tender  love  and  care  of  a  mother.  I  was 
not  able  to  give  her  much  more,  but  of  that 
she  has  had  a  goodly  share.  Wherefore 
should  I,  in  my  old  age,  be  writing  these 
pages  about  her  else? 

A  few  weeks  later,  when  the  first  deep  lone- 
liness in  our  little  house  was  softened  by  the 
course  of  time,  and  my  little  Lady  had  ceased 
to  ask  after  her  pretty  mamma,  I  began  to 
think  of  acquitting  myself  of  my  promise 
to  the  Lady  Margaret,  and  taking  my  little 
one  to  far-away  Provence,  and  wondering 
much  how  the  thing  might  be  brought  about. 
For  I  was  little  used  to  the  ways  of  taking  a 
long  journey  and  going  about  into  foreign 
lands,  —  I  who  had  scarcely  ever  gone  farther 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.  91 

than  our  neighboring  town.  David  and  I 
held  many  a  long  converse  on  the  subject, 
and  pondered  over  it,  and  came  to  no  under- 
standing, till  at  last  we  thought  of  consulting 
the  parson,  who  was  in  the  habit  of  going  to 
London  once  a  year,  and  who  was  doubtless 
the  most  likely  body  to  give  advice  in  such 
a  matter.  But  ere  we  had  time  to  follow  out 
this  plan,  the  thing  was  settled  for  us  in  this 
wise. 

One  morning  —  it  must  have  been  two 
months  after  my  writing  of  the  letter  to 
Monsieur  de  Saint- Rambert,  we  had  an  un- 
expected visitor,  a  kindly-looking  French 
gentleman,  who  bespoke  himself  Monsieur 
le  Marquis's  friend.  He  brought  a  letter 
with  him,  a  large  square  letter  with  a  dark 
seal  bearing  the  arms  of  Saint- Rambert  upon 
it.  Ah  me  !  it  was  the  very  thing  that  my 
poor  Lady  had  longed  and  pined  to  see,  and 
now  that  she  was  gone,  it  was  come  to  her, 
just  as  she  had  said  !  —  not  only  the  word  of 
forgiveness  from  her  father,  but  a  welcome 
to  her  and  her  little  one  to  come  to  him  and 
be  comforted.  Yes,  all  that  I  had  so  often 
said  to  soothe  her  and  give  her  hope  was  come 


92  MY  LADY: 

to  pass,  and  she  was  not  there  to  be  made 
happy  by  it.  This  good  gentleman,  whom  I 
was  as  pleased  to  see  as  though  he  had  been 
my  own  kindred,  seemed  deeply  touched  by 
all  I  told  him  of  the  Lady  Margaret,  and  his 
honest  eyes  were  moist  when  I  had  done. 
Then  I  learned  from  him  that  my  Lady's  let- 
ter written  so  long  since  had  never  reached 
Monsieur  le  Marquis,  and  that  mine  had 
found  him  in  a  wretched  state.  For  he  had 
been  growing  old  and  weak  in  his  last  years 
of  loneliness,  and  his  spirit  and  pride  were 
quite  broken.  I  heard  how  long  he  had 
held  out  against  his  daughter,  knowing  noth- 
ing of  her  trouble,  until  he  learned  of  it  from 
me,  and  being  himself  weak  and  ill  at  the 
time,  it  had  suddenly  softened  his  heart  to- 
ward her,  and  he  had  sent  his  trusted  friend 
to  bring  her  and  her  little  one  to  him  with- 
out an  hour's  delay.  And,  lo  !  now  that  his 
anger  had  vanished,  after  all  this  time  of 
wretched  waiting,  and  he  repented  him  of 
his  hardness  to  his  only  child,  the  message 
came  too  late  !  Ah,  't  is  so  often  the  way 
of  men,  to  repent  them  when  the  time  for 
repentance  is  past ! 


A  STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.  93 

I  wept  bitterly  at  the  thought  of  it,  and 
marvelled  at  the  strange  rule  of  Providence, 
which  is  so  far  beyond  our  understanding. 
Yet  I  was  thankful  that  the  right  thing  was 
done  at  last  by  my  little  Lady,  and  that  she 
would  now  be  taken  to  her  mother's  country, 
which  had  been  that  poor  lady's  last  wish, 
and  that  she  would  find  her  place  in  the 
beautiful  home  which  was  rightly  hers,  in- 
stead of  sharing  the  humble  fortunes  Of  poor 
folk  like  David  and  me.  I  would  go  with 
her,  as  I  had  promised  her  young  mother ; 
for  how  could  I  part  from  the  lovely  child 
who  had  already  learned  to  love  me,  as  no 
child  had  ever  done  ?  I  had  been  born  and 
bred  in  Wolverton,  but  I  would  gladly  leave 
my  little  town,  aye,  my  home,  and  even  my 
dear  David,  to  follow  my  loving  duty,  and 
be  with  my  darling  if  she  needed  me  in  what 
seemed  to  be  the  coming  of  such  fair  fortunes 
for  her. 

So  we  made  ready  in  great  haste  for  the 
long  journey  before  us,  and  in  less  than  a 
fortnight  we  were  off  for  the  sunny  skies  of 
France.  This  I  did,  much  to  my  own  surprise, 
be  it  said,  for  I  was  like  one  in  a  dream  with 


94  MY  LADY: 

going  so  suddenly  from  one  country  to  another, 
—  I  who  had  never  dreamed  that  it  should  be 
my  lot  to  see  so  much  of  the  world.  I  was 
like  a  plant  out  of  its  native  soil,  and  felt  so 
for  many  days  thereafter.  But  that  is  neither 
here  nor  there,  since  in  these  long  years  I 
have  learned  to  love  this  fair  country  as  well 
as  ever  I  loved  my  own  England ;  and  this 
you  will  deem  no  treason,  if  once  you  look 
upon»that  radiant  piece  of  earth  which  is 
called  Provence. 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.  95 


CHAPTER  VII. 

ziT.  REMEMBER  not  now 
how  many  days  we  were 
on  our  way  to  Southern 
France  ere  we  reached 
the  gray  old  walls  of 
Avignon  ;  but  it  seemed 
a  great  while  to  me,  who  had  never  before 
conceived  that  the  world  was  so  big  a  place. 
I  felt,  long  before  we  touched  our  journey's 
end,  that  we  must  surely  be  coming  back  to 
our  place  of  starting,  having  learned  once  on 
a  day  that  the  world  was  like  a  round  ball, 
on  which  folk  could  go  only  so  far,  travel  as 
much  as  they  would.  It  was  a  venturesome 
thing  for  one  like  me  to  go  such  a  distance 
into  foreign  lands,  among  strangers,  and  put 
half  a  continent  and  a  goodly  body  of  water 
between  one's  self  and  one's  own  home  nest. 
But  I  thought  not  of  all  this,  being  younger 
in  those  days,  and  finding  such  sweet  pleas- 


96  MY  LADY. 

ure  in  serving  my  little  Lady.  With  Mon- 
sieur le  Marquis's  kind  friend  to  look  after 
us  and  to  instruct  me  in  my  unaccustomed 
duties,  everything  went  smoothly  on,  and  I 
scarce  had  time  to  realize  what  had  happened 
to  us,  till  it  was  all  over  like  a  dream. 

Now,  my  Lady  was  in  perfect  ecstasy  the 
livelong  day  at  all  the  new  things  she  saw, 
and  her  cheeks  were  so  rosy,  and  her  eyes 
so  much  aglow  with  the  fire  of  young  excite- 
ment, that  folk  passing  us  on  the  way  turned 
round  to  look  at  her,  and  marvelled  at  her 
beauty.  Her  little  tongue  was  never  more 
at  rest  than  the  leaves  of  an  aspen- tree,  for 
asking  me  questions  which  I  was  unable  to 
answer  for  their  being  too  numerous,  and 
likewise  about  things  so  far  beyond  my  com- 
prehension. She  was  now  just  turned  five 
years  that  autumn,  and  I  had  never  seen  her 
like  for  a  wide-awake,  inquiring  little  body. 
I  was  at  my  wit's  end  trying  to  find  answers 
and  reasons  for  all  her  queries,  and  she  was 
not  easily  satisfied.  I  was  all  the  more  anx- 
ious to  teach  her  to  come  to  me  with  her  little 
thoughts  and  needs,  now  that  she  was  so  soon 
to  be  surrounded  by  others  who  had  better 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.  97 

claims  to  her  affection ;  jealous,  perhaps,  of 
her  young  love,  now  that  she  had  belonged 
to  me  alone  these  past  years,  and  loath  to 
part  with  but  the  smallest  share  of  it. 

I  knew  that  Monsieur  le  Marquis  would 
be  pleased  and  proud  of  his  little  grand- 
daughter when  once  he  looked  upon  her, 
and  that  she  would  fill  her  mother's  place 
in  the  old  gentleman's  heart  and  forgiveness. 
My  mind  was  much  at  work  with  wondering 
how  it  would  be  for  us  at  the  new  home ; 
how  Monsieur  le  Marquis  would  receive  me 
when  he  learned  fully  all  I  was  responsible 
for,  and  my  one  hope  was  that  he  would 
not  part  me  from  my  darling. 

At  length  we  were  in  Provence,  —  Pro- 
vence, with  its  rich  olive-groves  and  towering 
palms,  its  wealth  of  golden  fruit,  its  green- 
clad  mountains,  and  flood  of  warm  sunlight 
to  gladden  those  who  come  from  lands  where 
ice  and  snows  are  the  only  things  that  greet 
one  at  midwinter.  Laughing  with  flowers, 
breathing  forth  the  rich  tropical  perfume 
of  the  wild  lemon  blossoms,  exulting  in  its 
own  warmth  and  beauty,  such  was  Provence 
when  first  I  stepped  upon  its  genial  soil, 
7 


98  MY  LADY: 

and  thus  will  I  remember  it  to  the  last  day 
of  my  living  under  its  sunny  skies.  It  was 
like  entering  an  earthly  paradise,  and  each 
new  breath  I  drew  seemed  to  fill  me  with 
a  sweet  happiness,  and  drove  away  even 
the  recollection  of  sad  thoughts ;  for  I  do 
think,  now  I  have  lived  here  so  long,  that 
the  air  of  southern  countries  makes  the 
heart  gayer  and  warmer,  and  therefore  more 
genial.  The  bright  blue  skies  overhead  with 
only  faint  summer  clouds  floating  across 
them,  the  warm  glow  of  a  February  sun,  the 
comfortable,  contented  look  of  the  brown 
goats  browsing  on  the  hill- slopes,  all  made 
me  wonder  how  those  who  were  born  in 
such  a  fair  country  could  ever  look  up  to 
other  skies  and  be  happy  ! 

In  the  midst  of  this  perpetual  loveliness 
and  wealth  of  nature's  sweetest  gifts,  the 
old  Chateau  of  Saint- Rambert,  with  gray 
ivy-grown  walls,  rose  like  a  hoary  giant  from 
out  the  surrounding  verdure.  Its  windows 
and  stone  balconies  were  screened  with 
blushing  roses  and  flowering  eglantine,  and 
its  high  tower  and  slender  gables  looked 
down  with  stately  grace  upon  the  fertile 


1  The  old  Chateau  of  Saint-Rambert.' 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.          lOl 

slopes  beyond.  It  seemed  to  me  a  veritable 
enchanted  palace,  that  awaited  only  the 
coming  of  some  fair  princess  to  wake  it 
from  its  gray  slumber  into  life.  The  thought 
came  to  me  that  my  little  Lady  must  be  that 
princess ;  that  surely  light  and  happiness 
would  be  restored  to  that  noble  house  when 
once  her  childish  voice  was  heard  ringing 
within  it,  and  her  little  feet  had  crossed  its 
threshold.  I  had  not  quite  outgrown  all 
my  romantic  spirit,  for  all  David's  talk,  and 
I  have  come  to  think,  in  these  late  years, 
that  I  am  growing  worse  instead  of  better ; 
for  I  was  ever  looking  forward  to  something 
wondrous  happening,  the  like  of  which  we 
read  in  fairy- books  in  our  young  days,  and 
all  manner  of  foolish  hopes  passed  through 
my  brain  as  we  neared  the  old  chateau, 
never  thinking,  Heaven  forgive  me,  of  poor 
Monsieur  le  Marquis  who  at  that  hour  was 
very  low  and  feeble. 

We  turned  into  a  long  and  shady  avenue, 
and  very  soon  after  the  horses  stopped  in 
front  of  the  great  stone  steps  of  the  chateau. 
My  heart  began  to  beat  with  timidity  as  I 
ascended,  like  one  who  is  unaccustomed  to 


102  MY  LADY: 

finding  himself  in  strange  places.  It  was 
near  sun-down,  and  my  little  Lady,  weary 
with  the  long  drive,  and  lulled  by  the  scent 
of  this  fresh  new  air,  had  fallen  fast  asleep 
in  my  arms.  They  carried  her  in  without 
waking  her,  and  in  the  entrance  hall  I  was 
met  by  a  sweet-faced  lady  with  snow-white 
hair,  whose  kindly  look  at  my  darling  won 
me.  She  was  a  relative  of  Monsieur  le  Mar- 
quis, who  lived  near  by  at  the  Dependance. 
and  who  had  been  the  only  one  near  him 
during  his  illness.  She  told  me  hastily  of 
Monsieur  de  Saint- Rambert's  low  state. 
He  was  taken  ill  suddenly,  and  was  growing 
worse  very  fast ;  he  had  not  spoken  for 
several  days,  seeming  too  weak  to  do  so ; 
but  they  had  hoped  that  the  sight  of  his 
daughter  would  give  him  strength  to  speak 
out  something  that  was  preying  on  his  mind, 
and  which  caused  him  great  unrest. 

How  should  we  break  to  him  the  sad 
news  about  the  Lady  Margaret?  Would  he 
guess  the  truth  when  he  saw  me  with  the 
child  in  my  arms?  I  hoped  he  would.  But 
I  felt  that  this  was  a  terrible  hour,  and  that 
the  hand  of  Providence  was  in  it.  We 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.  103 

hurried  to  his  bed-chamber,  and  it  was  as 
I  had  thought.  There  was  no  need  of 
words.  Monsieur  le  Marquis  set  his  eyes 
upon  me,  and  he  knew  ;  the  look  of  anxious- 
ness  changed  to  one  of  despair  ;  he  made 
great  effort  to  speak,  but  the  words  would 
not  come.  Then  I  knelt  beside  him,  and, 
guessing  that  he  wished  to  hear  something 
of  the  Lady  Margaret,  I  told  him  how  she 
had  left  us  with  only  messages  of  love  for 
him,  and  the  hope  that  he  would  forgive 
her  and  learn  to  love  her  little  child.  Then 
Monsieur  le  Marquis  kissed  the  little  one, 
who  was  still  sleeping  in  my  arms,  and 
raised  his  hands  to  heaven  despairingly, 
while  we  could  do  naught  to  guess  his  wish 
or  to  help  him.  Ah,  if  I  had  but  known 
what  it  was  he  wished  to  say  ere  he  closed 
his  eyes  in  eternal  sleep !  But  Heaven 
willed  it  not  so,  for  every  deed  of  pride  or 
anger  or  injustice  must  surely  bring  its  own 
penalty. 

It  is  a  pitiful  thing,  indeed,  that  a  man's 
angry  pride  should  lead  him  to  deeds  he 
can  never  undo  i  But  pride  in  some  na- 
tures is  stronger  than  any  other  feeling, 


104  MY  LADY: 

stronger  than  the  duties  owed  to  one's 
kindred  and  one's  God.  It  may  be  a 
righteous  thing  in  the  eyes  of  them  that 
feel  the  magnitude  of  high  birth  and  noble 
rank;  but  if  a  man's  heart  must  needs  be 
turned  to  stone  for  the  sake  of  them,  then 
I  thank  Heaven  that  these  days  of  timely 
changes  are  come  upon  us,  when  a  great 
name  and  noble  lineage  do  count  for  naught 
if  a  man's  heart  be  not  in  the  right  place 
and  his  deeds  according. 

The  next  morning,  when  my  little  Lady 
awoke  in  her  strange  home,  Monsieur  le 
Marquis  had  passed  away,  and  she  was  left 
as  good  as  kinless  in  the  world.  For 
Madame  de  Vallance,  the  kindly  lady  who 
had  greeted  us  on  our  arrival  at  the  chateau, 
was  only  related  by  wedlock  to  Monsieur  le 
Marquis,  and  had  not  even  known  my  dar- 
ling's mother.  She  had  but  lately  come  to 
Provence,  at  Monsieur  de  Saint -Rambert's 
bidding,  to  care  for  the  young  Monsieur 
Philippe,  the  son  of  the  old  Marquis's 
youngest  brother.  This  little  lad,  now  my 
Maidie's  only  kin,  and  the  only  one  left 
bearing  the  name  of  Saint-Rambert,  being 


A  STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.  105 

scarce  more  than  a  twelvemonth  older  than 
my  little  Lady,  there  was  scant  help  or  pro- 
tection to  be  had  from  him  for  many  years 
to  come,  whatever  he  might  prove  to  do 
later. 

His  father  and  Monsieur  le  Marquis  had 
not  been  o'er  loving  as  brothers,  partly  by 
reason  of  the  great  disparity  in  their  ages, 
and,  too,  because  the  younger  Monsieur  de 
Saint- Rambert  had  been  a  bit  wild  and  too 
reckless  of  his  noble  brother's  sage  advice. 
But  he  had  died  in  his  country's  service  a 
short  time  since ;  and  this  to  Monsieur  le 
Marquis  was  atonement  for  many  wrongs, 
who  held  his  love  of  country  above  every 
other  love,  and  recognized  the  sacrifice.  So 
he  had  taken  the  little  orphan  son,  and 
vowed  to  be  a  father  to  him  as  long  as  his 
own  life  was  spared. 

Thus  it  happened  that  the  little  Philippe, 
like  all  the  well-born  children  of  Provence, 
was,  during  his  babyhood,  brought  up  at 
the  large  Dependance  on  Monsieur  le 
Marquis's  lands,  which  is  very  near  to  the 
great  chateau.  Here  he  enjoyed  the  sweet 
country  air  and  wholesome  farm-life  which 


106  MY  LADY: 

gives  strength  and  vigor  to  little  people,  and 
puts  such  warmth  of  color  into  their  baby 
cheeks.  Here  Madame  came  to  live  with 
and  educate  the  young  master  of  Saint- 
Rambert ;  for  she  had  been  chosen  by  the 
Marquis  because  of  her  high  birth  and  great 
learning,  that  she  might  teach  him  early 
how  to  be  worthy  of  the  great  name  he  bore. 
Poor  Monsieur  le  Marquis !  He  did  so 
cherish  his  old  ideas.  At  his  time  of  life 
he  could  not  foresee  what  would  be  the 
change  in  his  country  a  quarter  of  a  century 
later.  All  the  war  and  tumult  he  had  wit- 
nessed in  his  own  day  would  not  make  him 
believe  that  at  that  very  hour  a  mighty 
arm  was  slowly  rising  in  the  midst  of  the 
great  struggle  to  strike  down  the  old  pride 
of  France,  and  to  make  itself  the  master  of 
an  admiring  world.  He  could  not  realize 
that  another  age  was  at  hand,  an  age  of 
spirited  and  soaring  ambitions  that  opened 
to  all  the  road  to  glorious  deeds.  It  was 
well  he  did  not  see  the  crumbling  of  all  his 
hopes  and  the  strange  fulfilment  of  his  vague 
fears. 

Some  weeks  passed  ere  I  learned  for  cer- 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.          107 

tain  what  was  to  become  of  my  little  Lady 
and  me,  during  which  time  we  grew  better 
acquainted  with  our  new  surroundings,  and 
learned  to  love  the  beautiful  home  of  which 
I  had  so  often  heard  the  Lady  Margaret 
speak.  It  was  all  and  more  than  I  had 
pictured  in  my  mind  ;  so  grand  and  stately 
in  its  towering  height,  so  gray  and  vener- 
able amid  the  sunlit  smiling  landscape,  so 
rich  in  luxury  and  comforts,  that  I  wondered 
not  she  had  remembered  it  tenderly,  and 
hoped  that  her  little  child  might  some  day 
find  her  place  in  it. 

Monsieur  le  Marquis's  will  was  opened 
and  read  in  course  of  time ;  and  what  was 
not  my  grief  and  confusion  when  I  learned 
that  in  the  will  there  was  no  mention  of  the 
daughter  whom  he  had  so  loved,  and  who 
had  ever  been  a  comfort  to  him,  until  the 
fatal  day  when  he  had  stood  immovable 
between  her  and  her  heart's  love.  No 
mention  of  the  only  child  born  to  him,  — 
the  most  deserving  and  lovable  of  daughters, 
to  my  unwitting  mind  !  For  the  will  had 
been  made  when  Monsieur  le  Marquis  was 
still  full  of  revengeful  bitterness  against  the 


io8  My  LADY: 

Lady  Margaret,  and  the  thought  of  recon- 
ciliation seemed  a  thing  impossible.  Then 
it  came  over  me  suddenly,  like  a  sick- 
ening revelation,  that  it  was  this  which 
Monsieur  le  Marquis  had  striven  so  pite- 
ously  to  say  that  night  when  I  came  to  him 
with  my  little  Lady.  I  knew  that  in  that 
hour  all  bitterness  had  melted  from  his 
heart,  and  that  his  only  thought  was  to 
right  the  wrong  he  had  done  her.  But  in 
just  punishment  of  his  angry  act,  when  that 
moment  came,  Heaven  had  refused  him 
the  power  to  show  his  repentance,  and  the 
words  froze  on  his  lips  as  cruelly  as  they 
were  sealed  in  that  fatal  testament.  The 
Chateau  of  Saint- Rambert,  his  lands,  his 
name,  and  all  his  possessions,  even  his 
fatherly  love,  were  given  to  the  young 
Philippe,  and  my  darling  was  left  without 
recognition  in  her  mother's  country. 

Heaven  forgive  me  for  the  thoughts  that 
came  to  me  when  I  fully  comprehended  the 
greatness  of  this  injustice.  If  one  can  bear 
malice  in  one's  heart  towards  an  innocent 
unoffending  babe,  I  did  towards  that  dear 
little  Philippe ;  that  he  should  thus  step  into 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.  109 

rny  darling's  place,  that  all  her  rights  should 
be  set  aside  in  his  favor,  when  I  knew  in 
my  soul  that  Monsieur  le  Marquis's  last  wish 
had  been  to  cancel  every  word  in  that  same 
will,  and  only  the  words  to  frame  this  wish 
had  been  lacking  to  him.  Ah  me !  I 
wondered  what  had  been  the  worth  of  my 
long  errand,  and  why  we  had  left  our  little 
home  in  England  to  come  here  and  find  my 
little  one  with  no  claim  in  her  mother's 
home  ! 

True,  there  were  endless  lawyers  and 
executors  and  plenty  of  them,  who  were 
greatly  concerned  in  the  matter,  and  to  no 
purpose,  as  far  as  I  could  see,  since  with  all 
their  talking  they  could  not  change  a  word 
of  what  was  in  Monsieur  le  Marquis's  will; 
men  who  talked  a  deal  too  much,  to  my 
mind,  and  accomplished  nothing.  But  that 
was  their  business,  it  seemed,  and  they  were 
artful  at  it.  They  tried  hard  to  convince 
me  of  something,  I  know  not  what,  —  perhaps 
that  I  was  not  myself,  but  some  One  else ;  and 
they  might  have  done  it  if  I  had  listened 
to  them  long  enough.  But  this  they  said,  for 
which  I  thought  the  better  of  them,  that  I 


HO  MY  LADY: 

need  give  myself  no  fears  about  my  little 
Lady ;  for,  trusting  to  the  future  generosity 
of  the  young  master  of  Saint- Rambert,  they 
had  arranged  that  she  should  not  be  without 
a  home,  but  well  cared  for,  as  became  her 
rank.  Now,  while  I  was  eased  of  much 
anxiety  by  this,  I  could  not  help  feeling,  for 
many  a  day  thereafter,  that  Monsieur  Phi- 
lippe was  a  little  impostor,  and  that  I  could 
never  bear  to  look  upon  him  kindly,  nor 
have  my  darling  learn  to  love  him,  even 
though  he  was  her  only  kindred.  But  she 
did  learn  to  care  for  him,  in  spite  of  all  this,  — 
oh,  bless  you,  yes,  —  and  he  for  her,  and 
I  was  the  last  to  disapprove  of  it ;  for  we 
soon  forgot  and  never  but  once  had  cause  to 
remember  that  Monsieur  Philippe  was  the 
master  of  Saint- Rambert. 


A  STORY  OF  LONG  AGO. 


Ill 


CHAPTER   VIII. 


not  wholly  to  mine 


N  due  time  Monsieur  le 
Marquis's  affairs  were 
settled  to  the  exceed- 
ing satisfaction  of  all 
the  executors,  though 
and  the  kindly  gentle- 
man who  had  travelled  with  us  to  Provence 
and  who  was  chief  among  them,  came  him- 
self to  tell  me  the  result,  which  was  that  my 
Lady  would  have  the  large  Dependance  for 
her  home,  until  the  young  Marquis  came  to 
his  majority,  when  he,  being  the  master  of 
all  the  lands  of  Saint-Rambert,  would  do  his 
own  will  about  them,  and,  it  was  hoped, 
might  wish  to  do  better  by  his  cousin.  And, 
best  of  all,  I  was  allowed  to  stay  with  her, 
to  serve  and  care  for  her,  —  which  was  well- 
nigh  a  necessity,  as  she  would  go  to  no  one 
else.  So  it  was  that  Monsieur  Philippe  took 


H2  MY  LADY: 

my  darling's  place,  and  went  to  live  with 
Madame  at  the  chateau.  It  was  not  what 
I  had  hoped  for  her,  but  it  was  far  better 
than  that  she  should  be  left  entirely  without 
recognition  in  her  grandfather's  home ;  and 
while  I  endeavored  to  be  thankful  for  all 
that  was  done  for  the  child,  I  could  not  but 
sigh  inwardly  at  the  mockery  of  fate,  and 
make  mental  note  of  all  I  should  write  to 
David  upon  the  matter. 

In  the  mean  while,  however,  and  ere  I  had 
the  leisure  to  collect  my  feelings  for  a  long 
narrative  of  all  our  doings  to  dear  David, 
we  felt  quite  at  home  in  our  pretty  little 
dwelling,  and  my  darling  and  I  were  as 
happy  in  it  as  if  we  had  never  seen  the 
great  chateau  hard  by.  It  is  true  that  the 
large  Dependance  was  far  from  being  a 
modest  country  farmhouse  like  ours  at  Wol- 
verton.  It  was  rather  a  sumptuous  country 
home,  well  stocked  with  the  comforts  of  the 
farm  and  dairy,  and  with  many  of  the  luxu- 
ries of  living,  which  made  it  a  fit  home  for 
any  well-born  child.  Not  half  a  league  away 
from  the  chateau,  it  seemed  to  catch  some  of 
the  splendor  of  the  great  house,  without  any 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.  113 

of  its  severe  magnificence.  For  it  stood, 
not  like  the  chateau  on  a  towering  eminence, 
but  nestling  in  the  lap  of  a  sloping  hill,  well 
sheltered  by  its  mass  of  trees,  its  red  roofs 
peeping  out  here  and  there  among  the  dense 
foliage,  with  such  a  hospitable  sort  of  look 
that  it  was  ever  a  pleasure  to  the  eye,  and 
had  always  about  it  something  that  bespoke 
a  cheery  welcome.  From  the  first  time  we 
entered  it  to  this  very  day,  my  Lady  has 
loved  every  nook  and  corner  of  it,  every 
tree  that  casts  its  cool  shadow  over  it,  every 
flower  that  turns  up  its  pretty  face  to  it, 
every  bird  that  pours  out  its  sweet  note  to 
make  it  merry.  She  has  never  sighed  for 
the  richness  at  the  great  chateau  beyond ; 
she  has  grown  up  a  simple  maiden,  with 
simple  tastes  and  pleasures,  as  became  her 
altered  fortunes.  Even  in  later  years,  when 
she  was  told  of  the  change  that  had  come 
into  her  life,  she  never  grieved  over  it  a 
moment,  but  scolded  me  rather  for  having 
done  so  in  her  behalf,  saying  she  could  not 
be  otherwise  than  happy  whilst  she  had  her 
old  Mistress  Anne  to  love  her. 

As  for  me,  my  life  had  no  other  thought 
8 


H4  MY  LADY: 

or  purpose  than  my  darling's  happiness.  To 
see  her  growing  beneath  my  care,  like  a  fair 
young  flower,  more  beautiful  with  each  day's 
sunshine ;  to  hear  her  merry  laughter  through 
the  house,  and  to  know  that  she  loved  me  first 
and  most  of  all,  —  was  recompense,  in  truth. 

Before  many  days,  Madame  de  Vallance 
came  to  pay  us  a  visit,  and  brought  with  her 
the  little  Marquis,  that  he  might  become  ac- 
quainted with  his  cousin.  It  was  the  first 
time  the  children  had  met,  and  I  remember 
feeling  a  little  tremor  as  I  led  my  Lady  in 
by  the  hand  to  make  her  courtesy,  wonder- 
ing what  manner  of  child  the  young  master 
might  prove  to  be,  and  whether  my  Lady 
would  make  friends  with  him ;  for  she  had 
never  been  with  other  children,  and  I  knew 
not  what  she  might  take  it  into  her  little 
head  to  do.  To  my  great  relief,  she  smiled 
graciously  at  her  new  relatives,  and  went 
straight  to  Madame  to  be  kissed. 

"  Ah,  what  an  amiable  little  one  !  "  ex- 
claimed the  lady,  well  pleased  at  this  mark 
of  confidence.  "You  are  our  little  Llora 
now,  and  this  is  your  cousin  Philippe.  Will 
you  not  greet  him  too?" 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.          115 

My  Lady  did  as  she  was  bidden,  with 
pretty  innocence  ;  and  then  Madame  took 
her  on  her  knees  and  stroked  her  bright  hair 
gently.  Maidie  looked  up  at  her  with  won- 
drous interest ;  for  Madame  was  a  lady  whom 
every  one  admired  and  loved,  and  children 
most  of  all.  Her  quiet  voice  and  serene 
look,  her  gentle  ways,  won  their  hearts  imme- 
diately. She  was  not  old  in  spite  of  her 
silvery  hairs ;  her  face  was  still  young  and 
even  beautiful,  with  a  something  in  it  that 
showed  she  had  once  been  haughty.  But 
she  had  known  great  troubles  and  losses  in 
her  lifetime,  and  these  had  made  of  her  a 
sweet  and  sympathetic  woman. 

Monsieur  Philippe  was  a  handsome  boy 
with  a  fine  open  face,  and  eyes  as  blue  as  my 
Maidie's,  for  which  I  became  fond  of  him 
on  the  spot,  forgetting  all  my  former  resolu- 
tions to  the  contrary.  Scarce  more  than  a 
year  my  Lady's  elder  was  he,  and  yet  a 
manly  little  fellow  for  his  age ;  and  many  of 
my  fears  were  set  at  rest  as  I  learned  to  know 
him  better,  —  for  if  I  mistook  not  my  power 
of  judging  a  heart  through  a  pair  of  eyes,  I 
had  nothing  but  good  to  hope  of  him. 


Il6  MY  LADY: 

But  with  him  was  another  child  whose 
looks  I  did  not  like  quite  so  well;  a  play- 
fellow of  the  little  Marquis,  not  so  much  a 
child  in  face  as  in  size.  I  knew  the  moment 
I  set  eyes  on  the  two  that  he  was  master  of 
Monsieur  Philippe,  and  was  a  little  tyrant 
withal.  His  face  told  it.  I  never  knew 
eyes  like  his  to  presage  any  good  in  man  or 
child,  —  of  a  dark,  uncertain  color,  and  close 
to  one  another,  like  companions  leagued  in 
mischief;  thick  reddish  hair,  which  to  my 
judging  ever  means  an  evil  temper,  itself 
the  mark  of  persons  of  low  degree ;  a  sharp 
pointed  nose  that  gave  promise  of  looking 
a  bit  too  far  into  other  people's  matters ;  a 
thin  mouth,  curling  contemptuously  at  the 
corners,  and  great  weakness  about  the  chin. 
But  the  younger  lad  had  conceived  a  strange 
liking  for  him,  perhaps  because  of  the  very 
difference  in  their  natures.  All  that  Francois 
did  was  wondrous  in  Monsieur  Philippe's 
eyes,  and,  boy-like,  he  admired  most  what 
was  most  reprehensible  in  him.  But  you  will 
learn  more  of  Monsieur  Francois  in  time. 

I  sat  thinking  all  this  to  myself,  while 
Madame  entertained .  me  in  her  kindly  way 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.  117 

about  her  young  charge,  saying  I  must  bring 
the  little  girl  often  to  the  chateau,  that  they 
might  grow  to  know  and  love  each  other, 
and  dwelling  much  on  the  many  pleasant 
things  about  our  own  house  and  surround- 
ings, where  she  and  the  boy  had  lived  for  a 
number  of  years,  that  I  might  not  feel  too 
keenly  disappointed  of  my  Lady's  fortunes. 
She  told  me  how  she  herself  had  come  to 
Provence,  after  her  own  great  losses,  to 
bring  up  the  orphan  boy  who  was  to  be 
made  the  heir  of  Saint-Rambert,  according 
to  Monsieur  le  Marquis's  request.  She  spoke 
much  of  that  good  gentleman,  of  his  lonely 
life  since  his  return  to  Provence ;  and  by  the 
time  she  had  finished  her  story,  the  three 
children  were  out  in  the  old  garden,  playing 
and  laughing  together  as  if  they  had  been 
friends  always,  for  both  the  lads  knew  the 
place  well,  and  Monsieur  Philippe  felt  more 
at  home  here  than  at  the  grand  chateau. 

So  after  that  day  there  was  scarcely  a  time 
when  the  three  were  not  together.  Such 
games  of  romp  and  hide-and-seek  as  we 
had  in  the  old  house ;  it  was  here  we  held 
our  finest  frolics,  for  at  the  chateau  we  all 


Il8  MY  LADY: 

felt  that  we  must  be  on  our  best  behavior. 
When  the  days  were  fine,  the  lads  climbed 
the  trees  in  the  woods  for  nuts,  and  my 
Lady  gathered  them  all  into  her  little  bas- 
ket ;  or  else  they  rode  up  the  lovely  white 
mountain  roads  on  their  little  mulcts,  with 
Julien,  the  stable-boy,  to  lead  them.  When 
it  was  stormy,  there  were  things  a-plenty  in- 
doors to  amuse  them  :  the  old  garret  with  its 
enticing  chests  full  of  knick-knacks  and  curi- 
ous playthings  brought  hither  from  the  cha- 
teau, and  which  had  doubtless  been  the  delight 
of  some  grandparent's  childhood ;  some  ill- 
atuned  hunting-horns,  which  were  the  afflic- 
tion of  my  too  sensitive  ears,  and  the  joy  of 
my  young  master's  heart,  —  for  if  there  was 
one  thing  Monsieur  Philippe  liked  above  all 
others,  it  was  to  make  a  good  wholesome 
noise.  Then  there  were  quaint  gowns  and 
old  frippery  in  which  my  Lady  loved  to  at- 
tire herself  and  to  strut  up  and  down  like  a 
gorgeous  peacock  with  feathers  outspread,  to 
be  admired  of  her  two  companions.  Mas- 
ter Philippe  was  ever  her  veriest  slave,  and 
paid  her  all  the  court  she  loved ;  but  from 
the  very  first  Francois  took  delight  in  teasing 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.  119 

and  thwarting  her,  calling  her  an  ugly  cock- 
atoo when  she  fancied  herself  most  beautiful, 
pulling  her  hair  slyly  or  disarranging  her 
grand  coiffure,  stepping  upon  her  long  train 
purposely,  and  doing  a  multitude  of  like 
tricks  to  warm  my  little  Lady's  temper. 
Other  times  they  sat  around  me  before  the 
crackling  fire,  roasting  the  brown  marons, 
while  I  told  them  some  stories  of  Old  Eng- 
land, which  always  delighted  them,  until  the 
big  yellow  coach  from  Saint- Rambert  came 
to  take  the  young  Marquis  back  to  the 
chateau. 

Those  were  happy  times,  indeed,  which 
made  me  well-nigh  forget  all  my  old  disap- 
pointment, and  which  lasted  not  half  long 
enough,  for  children  have  such  a  way  of 
shooting  up,  like  young  daffodils,  —  to-day  a 
bud,  to-morrow  a  flower,  —  that  before  I  was 
well  aware  of  it,  my  Lady  was  going  over  to 
the  chateau  every  day  or  so  to  study  lessons 
out  of  books  with  Monsieur  Philippe ;  for 
they  were  both  so  near  the  same  age,  and 
she  so  quick  and  bright  at  learning,  that  they 
kept  pace  together  very  well.  She  was  al- 
ways fond  of  going  to  the  chateau.  Every- 


120  MY  LADY: 

thing  there  had  its  own  particular  charm  for 
her ;  the  great  high  tower,  the  graceful  tur- 
rets, the  spacious  rooms  and  brilliant  halls, 
the  wondrously  decorated  ceilings,  and  walls 
hung  with  gay-colored  portraits  of  her  own 
high-born  ancestors,  —  all  was  a  source  of 
ever  new  surprise  and  delight  to  her. 

But  there  was  one  thing  at  the  chateau 
that  pleased  her  above  all  else,  and  made  her 
wonder  and  ask  questions  that  were  unan- 
swerable, and  that  was  the  bold  device  of 
the  Saint  Rambert  Arms  which  stands  above 
the  chimney-piece  in  the  great  entrance  hall. 
It  is  truly  a  rioble  escutcheon,  full  of  curious 
imaginings  and  flaming  colors,  and  of  enor- 
mous size.  In  one  corner  a  fierce  black 
winged  creature,  with  pinions'  and  tail  out- 
spread, seeming  to  fly  upon  a  sky  of  gold ;  in 
another  corner,  an  uplifted  standard  with 
the  purple  and  white  fleur-de-lis  upon  it, 
guarded  by  a  rampant  lion  ;  in  a  lower  dex- 
ter, the  head  of  an  Alpine  chamois,  with 
horns  of  immeasurable  length ;  while  in  the 
last  dexter,  a  wreath  of  flowering  olive  lies 
upon  a  field  of  blue.  Then  below,  in  grace- 
ful festoonings,  is  a  band  of  red  with  the 


The  Saint-Rambert  Arms. 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.          12 3 

words  inscribed  upon  it  in  letters  of  glitter- 
ing gold,  AMOR  VINCIT  OMNIA. 

From  the  time  my  Lady  first  noticed  any- 
thing at  the  chateau,  she  seemed  bewitched 
by  this  gay  scroll.  She  would  climb  upon  a 
chair  and  stare  at  it  untiringly,  with  wonder 
in  her  round  eyes.  By  and  by  she  began  to 
make  out  the  letters,  and  treasured  them  in 
her  little  head,  that  she  might  ask  and  learn 
their  meaning.  One  evening,  I  remember, 
she  sat  beside  me  while  I  was  busy  with 
my  needle,  and  related  to  me  the  hap- 
penings of  the  day,  as  she  was  wont  to 
do  when  she  went  to  the  chateau ;  what  she 
had  learned  and  done,  and  how  Madame 
had  told  her  that  the  bright  gold  letters 
which  she  so  loved  signified  "  Love  conquers 
all  things." 

"  And  now  what  is  Love,  Mistress  Anne, 
that  it  can  conquer  all  things?"  she  asked  in 
her  eager  way,  whisking  her  yellow  curls 
and  looking  at  me  with  daring  innocence. 

What  could  I  tell  her  ! 

"  Love,  love,"  said  I,  "  why,  something 
that  makes  mischief  ofttimes,"  I  answered 


124  MY  LADY: 

dodgingly,  "  and  you  will  learn  about  it  soon 
enough." 

Then  she  looked  up  at  me  again  with  that 
witching  little  twist  of  her  head,  and  cocking 
her  saucy  chin  to  one  side,  said,  "  What  can 
it  do,  Mistress  Anne?  tell  me,  what  can  it 
do?" 

Ah,  saints,  what  had  it  done  for  me  ! 

"Many  things,  my  sweet,  which  you  will 
learn  when  you  are  older  grown." 

"  Have  you  ever  had  Jove,"  she  persisted, 
"  and  is  it  so  good  a  thing  to  have  ?  "  and  she 
threw  both  her  hands  into  my  lap,  and  pulled 
at  my  kerchief  to  urge  me  to  be  more  con- 
versant on  her  favorite  subject.  But  as  she 
did  so,  my  box  of  beads  in  some  way  got 
overturned,  and  all  the  little  pearls  fell  to 
the  ground  with  a  merry  tinkle,  as  though 
laughing  at  us ;  and  the  next  instant,  my 
Lady  was  down  upon  her  hands  and  knees, 
her  yellow  curls  hiding  her  face,  bent  on  pick- 
ing up  every  scattered  bead,  and  forgetting 
for  the  moment  all  about  love  and  the  witch- 
ery of  those  wondrous  words  when  seen  amid 
bright  colors  athwart  a  great  coat  of  arms. 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.  125 

But,  bless  you,  she  spoke  and  thought  of  it 
again  many,  many  times,  whenever  she  looked 
at  the  gay  motto,  and  later  still,  when  she 
learned  for  herself,  better  than  I  could  tell 
her,  the  true  meaning  of  its  words. 


126  MY  LADY: 


CHAPTER   IX. 


E  were  now  in  the  month 
of  December,  the  time 
when  great  rains  and 
storms  happen,  and  the 
northwest  wind  sweeps 
down  like  a  scourge  upon  the  fair  plains  of 
Provence.  My  darling  had  always  a  great 
fear  of  the  wind.  She  pictured  it  in  her 
young  mind  as  some  angry  giant-bird  swoop- 
ing over  the  country  with  flapping  wings, 
beating  down  and  destroying  everything  in 
its  way.  The  dismal  sound  of  it  moan- 
ing through  the  trees  or  whistling  furiously 
down  the  chimneys  and  gables  always  sent 
her  running  to  me  to  hide  her  head  in  my 
apron,  or  cover  up  her  ears.  I  recall  now 
one  day  such  a  storm  we  had  that  at  high 
noon  we  were  obliged  to  light  the  candles ; 
the  eaves  all  round  the  house  ran  like 


A   STOKY  OF  LONG  AGO.          127 

young  streams,  and  every  chick  outside  was 
drenched  to  the  bone.  Monsieur  Philippe 
and  his  friend  Francois  had  just  come  in, 
being  on  their  way  a-rabbit  hunting  when  the 
storm  had  overtaken  them.  I  stood  with 
the  three  children  at  one  of  the  diamond 
casements  which  look  down  into  the  garden, 
watching  the  heavy  drops  that  fell.  The 
frightened  birds  flew  after  each  other  with 
sharp,  shrill  cries ;  the  trees  swayed  their  tall 
tops,  and  tossed  their  branches  to  and  fro, 
like  things  writhing  in  agony.  My  Lady 
trembled  at  the  sight,  and  yet  was  so  fasci- 
nated by  it  that  I  could  not  get  her  away. 

"  Oh,  Mistress  Anne,"  cried  she,  clasping 
her  hands,  "do  you  not  think  it  hurts  the 
trees  to  be  beaten  so  by  the  cruel  wind  ?  Oh, 
dear,  I  know  it  hurts  them  !  See,  this  little 
one  near  is  bent  almost  to  the  ground,  and 
its  branches  seem  to  be  weeping." 

"  What  a  strange  fancy,  little  Maid  !  "  I 
said,  drawing  her  closer  to  me,  and  making 
light  of  her  terror.  But  even  as  I  spoke, 
one  of  those  very  branches  came  lashing 
past  us,  leaving  its  tears  upon  the  window- 
pane,  so  that  my  Lady  started  back  as  if 


128  MY  LADY: 

she  had  been  struck.  Francois  gave  a  great 
laugh ;  but  Monsieur  Philippe  came  around 
to  comfort  her,  while  I  strove  to  convince 
her  that  the  trees  felt  no  pain,  but  rather 
enjoyed  the  wind  and  rain,  this  being  the 
way  of  trees  of  showing  their  delight. 

"  And  the  poor  little  birds  that  live  in  the 
branches,  Mistress  Anne,  what  do  they  do 
when  the  thunder  and  the  lightning  come?" 

"They  hide  themselves  under  one  another's 
wings  close  in  their  nests,  and  the  good  God 
cares  for  them,  so  that  no  harm  comes  to 
them,"  said  I. 

My  Lady  was  beginning  to  feel  reassured 
by  my  words,  when  suddenly  a  most  dismal 
howling,  the  like  of  which  I  ne'er  had  heard 
from  man  or  beast,  sounded  from  without, 
and  made  us  all  stop  to  listen.  I  went  to  the 
door  to  see  what  the  matter  might  be,  the  two 
lads  running  on  ahead,  while  the  howling  still 
continued,  with  now  and  then  the  sharp  sound 
of  a  blow  and  the  angry  tones  of  a  man's 
voice  mingled  with  the  raging  of  the  storm. 

Ere  I  had  reached  the  door  Monsieur 
Philippe  had  crossed  the  garden  path,  and 
stood  in  the  middle  of  the  road,  his  hand- 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.  129 

some  legs  deep  in  rain  and  mud,  holding 
words  with  an  ill-looking  country  lout  about 
a  miserable  dog  that  lay  in  the  way,  moan- 
ing piteously,  and  panting  with  exhaustion. 
For  he  had  been  harnessed,  after  the  fashion 
of  peasants'  dogs,  to  a  cart  twice  his  own 
size,  and  loaded  heavily  with  fagots  and 
logs  of  wood.  The  up-road  over  the  hill 
was  steep  and  slippery,  and  the  poor  beast 
had  finally  sunk  beneath  the  burden,  while 
his  lazy  taskmaster  urged  him  on  with  oaths 
and  jeers  and  frequent  cuts  from  his  knotty 
hickory-stick. 

My  young  master  was  but  a  lad  then, 
scarce  more  than  nine  years,  but  he  was 
very  tall  for  his  age,  and  all  the  country  folk 
knew  him  for  the  Marquis  of  Saint-Rambert. 
When  the  fellow  had  recognized  him,  he  took 
on  a  slinking,  guilty  look,  making  excuse  for 
himself  with  saying  that  the  dog  was  but  a 
lazy  beast,  and  of  no  good  to  him. 

"  Lazy,  indeed  !  I  should  call  thee  the  lazy 
one,"  said  my  young  Marquis,  warmly.  "  Thy 
shoulders  are  strong  and  broad  enough  to 
carry  the  wood,  and  the  dog,  too,  for  that 
matter." 

9 


130  MY  LADY: 

"Aye,  aye,  my  young  Monsieur,  it  is  a 
worthless  beast,  and  good  for  nothing  but  to 
eat  all  I  have." 

"Then  will  I  rid  thee  of  the  dog.  Cut 
the  leather  with  thy  knife  and  loose  him, 
since  he  is  of  no  use  to  thee." 

"  Oh,  truly,  my  excellent  master,  I  could 
not  part  with  him  ;  he  's  a  valuable  beast  for 
all  that,"  said  the  rascal,  suddenly  viewing  the 
creature  with  new  favor,  but  still  preparing 
to  obey  Monsieur  Philippe  with  some  show 
at  hesitation.  "  He  's  unruly,  to  be  sure, 
but  I  'm  attached  to  him.  He  's  young  yet, 
and  I  must  train  him  for  labor ;  "  and  he 
gave  the  animal  a  fond  twist  of  the  ear  that 
caused  him  to  renew  his  lamentations. 

"What  wilt  thou  have  for  the  dog?" 
asked  the  young  Marquis,  laying  hold  of 
him. 

"  It  's  a  valuable  beast,"  repeated  the 
ruffian,  "  and  I  'm  fond  of  him,  but  I  '11 
trust  to  my  young  master's  generosity." 

The  dog  already  began  to  wag  his  droop- 
ing tail,  and  to  sidle  along  towards  Monsieur 
Philippe,  seeming  to  understand  that  a  bar- 
gain was  being  made  in  his  behalf,  and  look- 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.  131 

ing  his  utmost  to  convince  his  deliverer  that 
he  could  be  more  prepossessing  under  favor- 
able circumstances. 

"  A  half-louis,  then,"  said  Philippe,  draw- 
ing the  small  gold  coin  from  his  pocket. 

The  owner  of  the  dog  stared  at  it  in 
amaze,  and  raised  his  dripping  cap  a  dozen 
times  in  acknowledgment,  and  then  pulled 
off  his  load  of  wood  as  lightly  as  you  please, 
albeit  with  a  look  of  satisfaction  lurking  in 
his  small  eyes,  while  the  lads  came  indoors 
with  the  dog  following  close  upon  my  young 
master's  heels. 

"  He  is  an  ugly  dog  enough,"  said  Fran- 
cois, giving  him  a  sly  kick,  which  I  saw,  as 
soon  as  they  were  all  in  the  house,  "  and  not 
worth  half  the  money.  I  could  have  got  you 
one  for  nothing." 

"  I  did  not  want  the  dog,  Francois,  as 
much  as  to  get  him  away  from  that  brutal 
fellow;  but  he  is  not  so  ill-looking.  See, 
he  has  fine  ears  and  a  nice  muzzle." 

Monsieur  Philippe  was  right ;  Master  Lion 
was  not  at  all  an  ill- looking  dog,  for  when 
we  got  him  washed  a  bit  of  his  mud,  and 
dried  before  the  open  fire,  and  his  shaggy 


132  MY  LADY: 

coat  nicely  brushed,  he  proved,  on  the  con- 
trary, a  very  handsome  animal.  My  Lady 
was  the  first  to  welcome  him,  putting  both 
her  arms  about  his  neck,  and  calling  him  a 
poor,  dear  doggie,  and  a  lovely  doggie,  over 
and  over.  She  would  be  the  first  one  to 
feed  him,  and  her  fear  of  the  storm  without 
was  forgotten  in  the  excitement  caused  by 
this  new-comer.  He  was  a  young  dog,  but 
tremendous  for  his  age,  as  his  kind  are  apt 
to  be,  and  full  of  youthful  pranks  and  spirits. 
As  soon  as  he  recovered  from  his  great  sur- 
prise at  finding  himself  so  comfortable,  he 
waxed  very  jubilant,  utterly  forgetting  his 
sad  past,  and  manifesting  his  contentment 
in  joyful  barks  and  waggings  of  his  tail, 
which  amused  my  Lady  exceedingly.  And 
I  am  sure  that  if  any  one  had  asked  Master 
Lion  what  was  his  idea  of  paradise,  he  would 
have'  said  with  his  big  eyes,  a  cheerful  fire 
on  a  wet  day,  a  soft  white  rug  to  lie  on,  a 
sumptuous  plate  of  soup,  and  two  kind  chil- 
dren like  my  Lady  and  her  cousin  to  play 
with  him. 

Long  before  the  day  of  my  first  acquaint- 
ance with  Master  Lion,  I  had  come  to  con- 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.          133 

sider  a  dog  the  paragon  of  all  intelligence, 
and  be  it  said  to  his  praise,  he  went  far  to 
hold  me  in  that  belief.  I  have  known  crea- 
tures with  more  brain  and  fewer  feet  to  be 
less  wise  than  he ;  and  many  a  human  friend 
might  have  proved  less  grateful  than  was 
Master  Lion  to  my  darling  and  Monsieur 
Philippe.  The  first  inkling  I  had  of  what 
a  power  of  wit  there  was  in  that  big  head  of 
his  was  that,  keeping  in  mind  his  first  gra- 
cious greeting  from  Monsieur  Francois,  he 
growled  at  him  whenever  the  elder  lad  came 
too  close  to  him  in  their  play.  From  the 
other  two  he  would  stand  anything,  even  to 
being  plagued  nigh  unto  death  with  my 
Lady's  combing  and  plaiting  his  "curls,"  as 
she  called  them,  to  make  him  curlier  and 
woollier  than  ever.  He  understood  per- 
fectly that  the  two  cousins  loved  each  other, 
and  served  them  both  with  equal  devotion. 
But  Francois  was  a  foreign  element  which 
he  could  never  reconcile  in  his  own  mind ; 
for  dogs  have  a  way  all  their  own  of  finding 
out  the  good  and  bad  in  folk. 

We  grew  very  fond  of  Master  Lion,  as 
well  we  might ;  for  what  with  his  new  sur- 


134  MY  LADY: 

roundings,  living  in  elegance  at  the  chateau, 
and  being  Monsieur  Philippe's  special  pet, 
he  took  on  such  an  air  of  well-breeding  that 
he  proved  his  former  master's  words,  that  he 
was  a  valuable  dog.  From  the  chateau  to 
the  farm  and  back  from  the  farm  to  the 
chateau  he  travelled  daily,  —  sometimes  as 
company  for  the  children  ;  sometimes  alone, 
with  a  message  to  me  from  Madame ;  some- 
times with  some  dainty  morsel  which  my 
Lady  had  fashioned  with  her  own  hands  for 
Madame  and  Monsieur  Philippe,  and  which 
he  never  so  much  as  peered  at  on  the  way, 
being  sure  of  his  reward  at  the  end  of  the 
journey. 

With  Master  Lion  for  a  playfellow,  there 
was  little  peace  to  be  had  at  our  house  of  a 
holiday  afternoon,  for  it  was  here  that  my 
young  master  loved  to  come  for  his  best 
frolics,  having  leave  to  play  and  romp  to  his 
heart's  content.  The  fighting  of  bears  was 
one  of  his  chief  delights.  On  rainy  or  un- 
pleasant days  the  children  would  inveigle 
their  good  dog  upstairs  into  the  big  corri- 
dor, made  dark  for  the  purpose,  and  Master 
Lion,  being  well  trained  to  the  game,  would 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.  135 

hide  behind  one  of  the  half- opened  doors  to 
await  their  coming.  Then  Philippe  and  my 
Lady,  hand  in  hand,  with  ears  alert  and  eyes 
wide  open  in  the  dark  like  that  of  young 
owls,  would  come  tip-toeing  down  the  hall, 
which  they  called  the  way  to  the  Black  Cave. 
There  was  a  deal  of  uncertainty  as  to  which 
door  the  enemy  lay  behind ;  for  he  was  as 
tricky  as  might  be,  and  bided  his  chance 
till  they  were  almost  under  his  very  nose, 
and  then  he  would  rush  out  at  them  with 
one  of  his  deep  low  barks.  And  when  my 
Lady's  clear  laughter  rang  out  and  echoed 
through  the  whole  house,  I  knew  for  a  cer- 
tainty that  they  had  been  trapped  by  the 
ferocious  beast.  Ofttimes  the  gardener's 
lads  would  happen  over  just  in  time  for  the 
fun;  and  if  the  game  waxed  very  exciting, 
one  by  one  they  would  go  over  to  Master 
Lion's  side,  turning  bears  themselves,  till  at 
last  my  poor  little  Lady  was  left  all  alone  to 
be  devoured.  But  she  would  start  out  again, 
with  all  the  bravery  in  the  world,  while  the 
dutiful  bears  went  back  to  their  dens  to 
await  her  coming ;  and  when  they  all  sprang 
out  upon  her  at  once,  she  would  run  to 


136  My  LADY: 


me    for   protection,    hide   her   face   in   my 
apron,  and  laugh. 

Thus  their  childhood  passed  in  whole- 
some merry-making,  with  just  enough  serious 
duties  to  make  the  other  hours  seem  happy  ; 
and  thus  they  grew  in  years,  until  the  time 
came  for  putting  by  all  such  childish  frolic 
and  for  thinking  of  graver  things. 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.  137 


CHAPTER  X. 


ONSIEUR  PHILIPPE 
was  the  first  to  bring 
about  a  change  in  the 
pleasant  monotony  of 
our  simple  lives.  As  the 
years  followed  one  an- 
other, he  grew  of  an  age 
to  be  sent  away  to  college  to  finish  his  studies, 
after  the  fashion  of  all  young  noblemen  of 
the  day.  Then  came  a  time,  which  to  my 
mind  is  fraught  with  tenderest  sadness,  when 
the  cheery  lad,  the  life  and  sunshine  of  the 
household,  goes  out  from  the  home  nest, 
as  doth  a  birdling  from  under  the  parent 
wing,  and  his  boyish  face  returns  no  more 
from  the  years  of  absence.  We  all  felt  this, 
I  think,  when  our  good  Monsieur  Philippe 
left  us,  but  more  especially  Madame  de 
Vallance,  who  had  been  a  true  mother  to 


138  MY  LADY: 

him,  even  as  I,  in  my  humble  way,  had 
striven  to  be  such  to  my  darling.  She  loved 
him  exceedingly,  in  her  quiet,  silent  way, 
and  had  been  as  tender  of  him  as  any 
mother  might;  while  he  in  turn  looked  to 
Madame  for  his  every  need  as  a  son,  and 
she  and  my  Maidie  were  foremost  in  his 
affections. 

It  was  about  this  time  that  I  began  to 
ponder  a  bit  over  my  young  master's  fond- 
ness for  his  cousin,  for  they  were  both  near- 
ing  the  age  when  young  folk  think  of  tender 
things,  do  what  you  will  to  prevent  them. 
I  was  not  the  one  to  say  them  nay,  far  from 
it ;  for  to  speak  without  concealment  this 
had  been  my  secret  hope  for  many  a  day, 
that  their  children's  friendship  would  grow 
in  depth  and  breadth,  till,  in  the  rich  spring- 
time of  their  young  lives,  it  blossomed  into 
the  fairest  flower  of  human  happiness. 

Albeit  I  spoke  not  of  my  thoughts  to  any 
one  ;  I  only  wrote  of  them  to  David,  who, 
after  giving  me  his  best  opinion  on  the 
matter,  made  great  feint  of  taunting  me 
upon  my  ever  eager  searching  after  romance. 
Now,  only  to  prove  the  artful  deception  of 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.  139 

even  the  best  of  men  in  such  matters,  I 
will  mention  here,  that  David  was  at  that 
very  time  weaving  a  romance  of  his  own, 
all  unbeknown  to  me. 

We  were,  as  I  have  said,  nearing  the 
Christmas-tide,  —  the  lovely  Christmas-time 
of  roses  and  lilies,  so  plentiful  in  Provence 
at  that  season.  And  it  was  settled  that 
Monsieur  Philippe  was  to  leave  us  upon 
the  New  Year.  So  against  the  approaching 
separation  my  young  Marquis  spent  more 
of  his  time  than  ever  at  the  farm,  if,  indeed, 
that  were  possible.  He  had  much  learned 
reading  to  do  in  preparation,  and  he  brought 
his  great  volumes  hither,  and  expounded 
aloud  from  them  to  my  Lady,  making  so  free 
with  the  pronouncing  of  certain  long  words 
that  I  marvelled  at  his  glibness,  and  asked 
myself  what  more  there  was  for  him  to 
learn  even  at  the  great  capital  of  Paris. 
My  darling  sat  beside  him,  bending  over 
some  tapestry  work,  and  listening  to  him 
with  pretty  interest.  It  was  like  a  picture 
to  watch  them  with  their  young  heads  to- 
gether, poring  over  some  difficult  question, 
always  in  such  perfect  unity  of  mind  with 


140  MY  LADY: 

each  other,  agreeing  perfectly  in  all  things. 
I  was  always  pleased  when  that  young  Fran- 
cois was  not  with  them ;  for  whenever  he 
was  about  there  was  discord  in  the  air. 
I  never  could  be  made  to  see  any  good 
in  him,  nor  could  I  understand  why  my 
young  Marquis  had  so  long  suffered  him 
for  a  friend.  For,  meseemed  that,  growing 
older,  his  tongue  had  waxed  sharper  in 
saying  ungracious  things  :  and  what  with  my 
Lady's  quick  temper  and  his  airs  of  lording 
it  over  her,  they  had  many  an  outbreak, 
which  Philippe,  by  his  ever  peace-loving 
nature,  always  managed  to  appease. 

I  think  it  was  the  day  before  Christmas 
that  Monsieur  Philippe  first  spoke  to  my 
darling  of  his  going  away ;  for  though  we  all 
knew  that  it  was  soon  to  take  place,  he 
could  not  bear  the  mentioning  of  it,  being1 
—  shall  I  say  it  without  your  thinking  less  of 
him  for  it? —  a  little  tender-hearted  at  part- 
ing from  his  home  and  his  dear  cousin 
Llora.  We  had  been  at  the  chateau  all  day 
preparing  the  little  chapel  for  the  next  day's 
fete,  and  in  the  evening  we  sat  in  the  grand 
salon  awaiting  our  cup  of  hot  milk  and 


At  the  Harpsichord. 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.          143 

chestnuts  which  Madame  would  never  let 
us  go  without.  My  darling  sat  at  the  old 
harpsichord  singing  over  some  of  the  Christ- 
mas chants  which  she  loved,  while  Monsieur 
Philippe  stood  at  her  side,  feigning  much 
interest  in  the  music,  but  in  reality  admiring 
her  Ladyship's  pretty  airs  and  graces,  as  she 
softly  fingered  the  yellow  keys,  and  chatting 
with  her  at  propitious  intervals.  Master 
Lion  lay  stretched  out  on  the  floor,  all  his 
great  length,  beside  them,  howling  disconso- 
lately, either  at  not  being  taken  into  their 
confidence,  or  at  the  music  mayhap,  he 
being  much  averse  to  sweet  sounds. 

"And  what  shall  you  do  when  I  am  gone, 
Maidie  ?  "  asked  Monsieur  Philippe,  trying 
to  speak  of  the  matter  lightly,  though  I 
knew  it  had  weighed  heavily  on  his  heart 
of  late,  and  I  had  seen  a  moist  light  gleam- 
ing in  his  eyes  once  or  twice.  But  it  was 
not  the  sign  of  weakness,  for  Heaven  is 
witness  there  is  none  braver  than  my  good 
young  master;  it  was  rather  the  proof  of 
his  strong  and  tender  heart,  that  he  could 
shed  tears  at  this  first  youthful  pang,  and 
feel  no  shame  of  them. 


T44  MY  LADY: 

"Oh,  Philippe  dear,  I  cannot  think  of 
it !  "  cried  my  Lady,  who,  in  truth,  could  ill 
imagine  what  home  would  be  without  Cousin 
Philippe.  "  I  shall  try  to  study  very  hard 
when  you  are  gone,  so  that  you  may  not 
think  me  too  great  a  simpleton  when  you 
return.  For  you  will  be  so  wise  and  learned 
by  that  time  that  I  shall  be  quite  afraid 
of  you." 

"  Never  think  that,  Maidie,  or  I  '11  remain 
a  pumpkin-head  all  my  life.  I  would  not 
have  you  change  in  your  regard  for  me  for 
all  the  learning  and  honors  in  France ! 
Promise  me  now  that  you  will  not,"  said 
the  young  Marquis,  with  a  look  of  deep 
meaning  in  his  eyes.  My  darling  laid  her 
hand  gently  on  his  arm,  looking  at  him 
quite  innocently,  for  there  was  no  hidden 
meaning  in  her  words.  "  Dearest  Philippe, 
how  could  I  change  toward  you  save  to 
love  you  more,  if  that  were  possible  ! " 

My  lady  was  too  young,  too  much  a 
child,  in  spite  of  her  blossoming  maidenhood, 
to  see  in  Philippe  aught  but  a  comrade,  a 
brother,  who  would  be  always  dear  to  her. 
Any  other  love  she  had  never  known. 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.  145 

"  I  will  think  of  you  first  of  all  on  the 
fete-days,  and  when  I  am  very  lonely  I 
shall  write  you  long  letters  of  all  our  doings 
at  home,  and  tell  you  how  Master  Lion 
behaves  himself  in  your  absence,"  she 
added,  turning  to  that  brave  fellow,  who 
still  eyed  them  with  the  air  of  one  who  does 
not  mean  to  be  ignored. 

Monsieur  Philippe  did  not  say  what  he 
would  do,  but  he  looked  well  satisfied,  and, 
passing  his  arm  about  my  Lady's  waist, 
they  walked  together  the  length  of  the  big 
salon,  talking  as  confidingly  as  though  they 
had  been  my  Lord  and  Lady  indeed. 

The  next  morning  being  Christmas  Day, 
my  Lady  and  I  having  a  mind  to  go  to  the 
little  chapel  for  early  service,  there  to  greet 
the  village  folk,  and  thence  to  wish  Madame 
and  Monsieur  Philippe  a  merry  Christmas, 
we  arose  very  early.  But  ere  I  was  well  out 
of  bed  and  dressed,  a  Christmas  greeting 
came  to  us  from  the  chateau.  I  heard  a 
strange  confusing  sound  at  our  door,  —  first 
a  suppressed  and  muffled  bark,  and  then  a 
mighty  scratching  and  pawing  upon  the 
panes,  —  a  noise  that  makes  one's  teeth  grind. 
10 


146  MY  LADY: 

In  a  minute  more  my  Lady  flew  past  me 
down  the  stairs  and  opened  the  door,  to 
receive  no  less  a  personage  than  Master 
Lion,  who  bounded  in  joyfully,  at  the  same 
time  dropping  a  basketful  of  fresh  pinks 
and  violets  at  her  feet.  Then  he  pranced 
about  her  in  hilarious  delight,  stretching  his 
neck  to  meet  her  look,  brushing  his  shaggy 
head  against  her,  and  saying  plainly  with 
his  big  eyes,  — 

"  I  am  a  Christmas  gift  from  the  chateau ; 
behold  my  new  badge  of  servitude  !  " 

Surely  enough,  there  round  his  neck, 
glistening  through  the  light  brown  masses  of 
his  shaggy  coat,  was  a  shining  collar  with 
"  My  Lady "  engraved  upon  it,  and  the 
Saint-Rambert  Arms. 

My  darling  uttered  a  cry  of  delight,  and 
kissed  and  hugged  the  big  creature,  almost 
to  smothering  him. 

"You  dear,  enormous  darling!"  she  re- 
peated over  and  over ;  "  to  think  that  you 
should  be  mine,  all  my  very  own !  Oh, 
what  a  good  cousin  is  Cousin  Philippe, 
is  he  not,  Master  Lion?  Come,  Mistress 
Anne,  and  see  my  beautiful  gift.  Now  we 


A    STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.          147 

must  hasten  to  the  chateau  to  thank  my 
dear  Philippe  ;  "  and  she  whisked  her  white 
lace  capeline  over  her  pretty  head,  and, 
drawing  me  by  the  hand  and  Master  Lion 
by  one  of  his  long  ears,  we  started  forth  in 
the  early  gray  morning. 

To  be  sure,  all  that  day  was  a  day  of 
merry-making.  In  the  evening  we  dined 
at  the  chateau  ;  and  the  feast  was  a  splendid 
one  in  honor  of  the  young  master's  depar- 
ture. Such  a  tremendous  brown  goose  was 
never  seen  as  the  one  brought  on  the  table 
that  day ;  the  creams  were  never  so  frothy, 
the  tower-cake  never  so  high,  the  hot 
marons  never  so  crisp,  and  the  papillotes 
never  said  so  many  bright,  sparkling  things. 
It  was  a  joyful  feast ;  and  every  one  had  his 
full  share  of  its  good  things,  even  Master 
Lion,  who  was  admitted  to  the  table  when 
dessert  time  came,  and  sat  so  high  upon  his 
haunches  that  his  fine  muzzle  just  rested  on 
the  white  cloth,  open,  like  a  trap-door,  to 
receive  all  the  dainties  that  were  offered 
him. 

It  was  the  last  Christmas  that  we  spent 
all  together  for  four  long  years,  as  Monsieur 


148  MY  LADY: 

Philippe  was  not  again  with  us  at  that  sea- 
son during  all  his  years  of  college.  Within 
a  fortnight  he  was  gone  from  us,  —  gone  to 
his  new  life  of  serious  work,  gone  to  meet 
the  great  world,  whither  he  took  our  heart's 
blessings  with  him,  and  whence  the  boy 
Philippe  never  returned,  but  a  brave- 
spirited,  noble  man  in  his  stead. 


A  STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.  149 


CHAPTER  XI. 

CANNOT  tell  you  how 
much  we  all  missed 
Monsieur  Philippe.  The 
big  chateau  seemed  very 
lonely  without  its  young 
master  ;  for  he  was  such 
a  happy,  wholesome,  vigorous  lad,  with  all 
his  gentle  nature,  that  one  felt  his  presence 
about,  even  as  one  feels  a  sunbeam  without 
being  conscious  of  it.  Every  one  in  the 
town  asked  after  him,  —  the  neighbors,  the 
village-folk,  the  farmers  on  his  lands,  —  till 
I  marvelled  at  the  number  of  his  friends. 
Madame,  who  felt  his  absence  perhaps  more 
than  ourselves,  could  not  bear  to  remain  a 
day  at  the  chateau  without  seeing  some  one 
of  us,  that  she  might  talk  of  him,  of  his  little 
sayings  and  doings,  of  his  many  qualities 
which  were  well-nigh  inexhaustible.  When- 
ever letters  came,  which  they  did  very 


150  MY  LADY: 

often,  both  to  Madame  and  to  my  darling, 
for  my  young  Marquis  was  more  than  duti- 
ful in  this  respect,  we  always  assembled  to 
read  them ;  even  Master  Lion  joined  us, 
listening  intently  to  every  word,  with  his 
nose  uplifted,  as  though  he  knew  and  under- 
stood what  it  was  all  about.  And  they  were 
long  letters,  full  of  lively  interest  about  his 
school  life,  of  the  new  friends  he  made,  and 
always  closing  with  some  sweet,  affectionate 
words  which  showed  that,  however  distant  he 
himself  might  be,  his  heart  dwelt  ever  with 
the  friends  he  had  left  in  Provence. 

Madame  often  wept  when  it  came  to 
these  places ;  and  my  Maidie,  who  was 
grown  a  very  daughter  in  her  affections, 
would  console  her,  speaking  of  the  time 
when  Monsieur  Philippe  would  come  home 
a  brave  and  handsome  chevalier. 

My  Lady  looked  upon  her  cousin 
Philippe  as  a  brother.  Dearer  or  more 
affectionate  a  brother  could  not  have  been ; 
but  I  doubt  exceedingly  if  many  brothers 
there  were  that  year  at  college  who  received 
such  frequent  and  entertaining  letters  from 
their  sisters  as  did  Monsieur  le  Marquis  de 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.  151 

Saint-Rambert,  or  who,  receiving  them, 
treasured  them  in  secret,  read  them  so 
many  times  over,  and  covered  them  with 
invisible  seals  ere  they  were  put  away  and 
locked  from  other  eyes. 

My  darling,  as  I  may  have  said  before, 
was  growing  more  fair  and  beautiful  with 
each  returning  day;  the  bloom  of  perfect 
health  and  youth  was  on  her  cheek;  her 
eyes  were  dark  and  liquid  and  changeful  as 
the  sea.  Her  hair  had  turned  its  baby 
corn- silk  hue  to  a  rich  chestnut,  full  of 
warmth  and  color,  so  that  when  the  sun 
fell  upon  it,  it  shone  and  glittered  like 
burnished  gold.  She  was  tall  and  slender 
as  a  lily-stem,  graceful  as  an  aspen-bough ; 
her  merry  laughter  was  as  pure  and  fresh 
as  the  trickling  of  a  mountain  streamlet, 
and  her  heart  as  joyous  as  the  note  of  the 
thrush.  What  wonder,  then,  that  my  young 
Marquis  should  think  tender  thoughts  of 
her,  indeed !  that  ofttimes,  in  the  maze 
of  some  dire  geometric  problem,  instead 
of  the  puzzlesome  angles,  the  soft  curves  of 
her  young  features  found  their  way  on  the 
learned  pages  before  him !  Dear,  brave 


152  My  LADY: 

Philippe,  God  bless  your  honest  heart,  and 
forgive  my  jealous  old  eyes  that  they  had 
guessed  your  secret !  For  from  that  very 
hour  I  loved  you  even  as  I  love  my  darling 
Maidie,  and  would  have  given  my  life  to  see 
your  happiness  fulfilled. 

There  were  others,  and  plenty,  who 
looked  upon  my  Lady  with  admiring  eyes. 
There  was  the  old  miller,  who  had  ground 
the  Saint-Rambert  grains  ever  since  he  and 
the  old  Marquis  had  been  lads  together, 
and  who  believed  there  was  not  another 
face  like  hers,  not  even  among  all  the 
madonnas  of  Provence ;  and  who,  on  a 
Sunday  morning,  would  await  her  at  the 
door  of  the  little  chapel,  that  he  might  be 
the  first  to  kiss  her  hand  as  she  went  in 
to  service.  Nor  was  he  the  only  one ; 
for  my  Lady  was  known  to  all  the  country 
folk  and  to  the  poor  and  sickly  as  a  bright 
angel  of  mercy  who  was  ever  busy  with 
some  charity  for  them,  and  whose  cheery 
looks  and  words  fed  their  hungry  hearts  as 
much  as  her  savory  morsels  fed  their 
hungry  bodies.  For  she  was  a  true 
daughter  of  Provence,  quick  of  sympathy, 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.  153 

impetuous,  and  generous  as  the  warm  sun- 
rays  of  that  good  country.  It  made  my 
heart  glad  whenever  I  witnessed  any  tribute 
of  their  respect ;  for  I  would  have  every 
thing  and  creature  near  love  her  as  she 
deserved  to  be  loved,  that  she  might  never 
know  aught  but  love. 

Still,  there  was  one  whose  sidelong 
glances  and  honeyed  speeches  were  admi- 
ration of  such  a  sort  that  it  disturbed  me 
more  than  I  cared  to  say.  Monsieur 
Francois  had  not  been  slow  to  take  notice 
of  all  my  Lady's  charms,  and  though  she 
had  never  shown  any  liking  for  him,  he 
seemed  to  take  it  as  his  title,  that  she 
should  favor  him  —  Heaven  alone  knows 
for  what  reason  —  with  her  regard.  True, 
he  had  often  been  their  companion,  when 
children  ;  but  it  had  been  Monsieur 
Philippe's  choice.  Frangois  was  no  more 
their  equal  in  nature  than  he  was  in  station. 
He  and  his  mother  came  to  Provence,  I 
know  not  whence,  and  had,  ever  since  I 
knew  aught  of  them,  received  favors  and 
bounties  from  the  Marquis's  family.  More- 
over, he  had  gained  my  young  master's 


154  MY  LADY: 

friendship  in  some  mysterious  way,  and 
Philippe  could  see  no  wrong  in  him,  simply 
because  he  could  not  think  evil  of  any  one. 

Monsieur  Francois  had  taking  to  coming 
to  the  farm  some  time  after  the  young 
Marquis's  departure  with  familiar  and  un- 
welcome frequency.  I  was  not  over- 
gracious  to  him,  and  Maidie  would  as 
likely  as  not  leave  him  in  the  middle  of 
some  maudlin  speech  to  go  and  trim  her 
border  of  spicy  pinks  in  the  garden.  But 
he  would  follow  her  with  his  tantalizing  air 
of  patronage,  flaunting  his  irksome  admi- 
ration at  her  the  more  she  showed  herself 
indifferent  or  vexed. 

One  day —  it  must  have  been  a  twelvemonth 
or  more  since  my  young  Marquis  had  left  us, 
for  the  olive  and  lemon  trees  were  just  turn- 
ing white  with  blossoms,  and  the  wood-flowers 
thrusting  their  shy  heads  from  between  the 
moss-grown  rocks  —  my  Lady  started  out 
upon  some  errand  of  mercy  among  the  village 
people,  her  little  basket,  filled  with  dainty 
sweet- bits,  upon  her  arm,  and  accompanied 
by  her  faithful  friend  and  follower  Master 
Lion,  who  for  a  long  time  now  had  been  her 


My  Lady  out  upon  some  errand  of  mercy." 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.  157 

only  play- fellow.  She  was  just  turned  seven- 
teen that  Easter,  and  uncommon  tall  and 
maidenly  for  her  age.  I  could  not  help  " 
looking  out  after  her  as  she  tripped  lightly 
down  the  green  valley,  in  her  pure  white 
gown,  and  bright  hues  in  her  cheeks  and 
eyes.  She  seemed  the  very  spirit  of  the 
young  spring-time. 

She  was  going  to  see  Mere  Toinette,  I 
think  she  said,  —  an  old  dame  who  was  a 
kind  of  favorite  with  my  Lady,  who  seemed 
to  find  endless  entertainment  in  her  visits 
thither.  For  Mere  Toinette  had  a  real 
talent  for  bewitching  young  folk.  She  was 
the  picture  of  mystery ;  withered  and  wrin- 
kled and  bent  was  she,  with  never  a  tooth  in 
her  head.  She  looked  a  hundred  years  old. 
No  one  in  the  village  had  ever  seen  her  look 
younger,  and  some  thought  that  she  would 
go  on  living  and  mumbling  forever.  But 
every  one  believed  in  her  great  wisdom : 
harvesters  went  to  her  to  know  of  their 
crops,  and  she  prophesied  for  them ;  young 
lovers  went  to  her  in  their  troubles,  and  she 
spake  to  them  as  a  very  oracle,  never  swerv- 
ing from  the  truth.  She  had  ever  bespoken 


158  My  LADY: 


gentle  and  happy  fortunes  for  my  Lady, 
many  friends,  a  deal  of  happiness  in  wed- 
lock, a  handsome  husband,  and  the  like,  at 
which  my  Maidie  always  laughed  heartily, 
never  having  yet  dreamed  of  such  things. 

Now,  on  this  very  morning,  as  she  was 
coming  out  of  the  old  woman's  hut,  her  face 
all  smiles  still  at  Mere  Toinette's  foolery, 
who  should  come  sidling  up  to  her  and  take 
her  arm  but  Monsieur  Francois,  with  his 
weak  smile  and  fawning  look?  My  Lady 
gave  a  little  start,  as  much  from  displeasure 
as  from  surprise  ;  while  Master  Lion,  with 
his  usual  presence  of  mind,  growled  at  him 
ferociously,  and  wedged  himself  so  skilfully 
between  his  young  mistress  and  the  in- 
truder that  the  latter  reeled  a  bit  ere  he 
recovered  his  balance,  while  she  remained 
untouched. 

"Ah,  Mistress  Llora,"  he  said,  with  his 
sleek  impudence,  —  no  one  ever  called  her  so 
but  him,  —  "  you  seem  to  be  in  league  against 
me,  of  late,  with  that  great  ugly  brute  of 
yours.  Why  do  you  run  away,  my  fair  one  ? 
Can  you  not  see  that  I  am  dying  of  love  for 
you?  "  he  added,  with  an  attempt  at  coming 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.  159 

near  to  her  on  the  other  side,  but  being 
speedily  repressed  by  the  "ugly  brute." 

"  Do  not  talk  foolishly  to  me,  Francois," 
said  my  Lady,  walking  faster;  "you  know 
very  well  that  I  do  not  like  you,  and  I  like 
you  still  less  when  you  speak  ill  of  my  good 
dog." 

"  Say  that  you  will  like  me  more  if  I  speak 
well  of  him,  dear  angel !  "  and  he  tried  to 
lay  his  hand  on  Master  Lion,  who  snapped 
at  him  as  though  he  had  been  stung  by  a 
bumble-bee. 

"That  I  cannot,"  returned  my  Lady; 
"  but  it  matters  little  to  me  or  the  dog  what 
you  think  of  us." 

"  Ah,  how  cruel  are  your  words  !  "  con- 
tinued he.  "  I  should  think  seriously  of 
throwing  myself  over  the  Rhone  bridge,  if 
I  thought  you  meant  them  ;  but  I  know  your 
sex  too  well  for  that.  You  say  one  thing 
and  think  another ;  it  is  ever  so  in  love." 

"  I  speak  the  truth,  Monsieur  Francois,  I 
would  have  you  know  it,"  said  my  Lady, 
with  an  angry  blue  flame  flashing  in  her  eyes ; 
and  in  turning  hastily  from  him  one  of  the 
flowers  from  her  basket  fell  to  the  ground. 


160  MY  LADY: 

He  flung  himself  after  it,  carrying  it  to  his 
lips  and  looking  at  her  in  a  way  that  made 
him  more  loathsome  every  minute.  "  I  have 
something  very  sweet  to  tell  you,"  he  said, 
after  a  moment's  pause ;  "  will  you  listen  to 
it?" 

"I  will  not,"  said  my  Lady. 

"  You  must,  you  shall,"  he  cried,  after  the 
manner  of  stage-actors,  and  took  her  little 
cold  hand  in  his ;  but  only  for  a  quarter  of 
a  second,  for  Master  Lion  again  put  him  at 
bay.  "  I  love  you,"  he  said ;  "  I  love  you 
more  than  any  one  else  ever  will.  I  wish 
you  to  be  my  wife.  Do  not  say  no  yet ; 
think  awhile,  think  of  your  happiness,  of —  " 

My  Lady  interrupted  him.,  "  If  to  be- 
come your  wife  means  that  I  should  have 
to  be  near  you,  to  look  upon  you  for  a  whole 
lifetime,  then  I  should  rather  die  than  call 
this  happiness ;  for  I  hate  you  !  " 

"No,  you  do  not,  my  handsome,  angry 
goddess.  I  do  not  mind  your  pride ;  it  is 
wondrously  becoming  now,  but  remember 
who  you  are, — the  child  of  a  disinherited 
daughter,  yourself  the  daughter  of  a  com- 
moner. Nay,  nay,  do  not  bite  your  pretty 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.  161 

lips,  you  will  make  them  bleed.  Every  one 
knows  the  story.  You  are  alone  in  the  world, 
without  friends,  without  dowry,  living  on  the 
bounty  of  Monsieur  le  Marquis ;  you  could 
do  worse  than  marry  me." 

"  Without  friends  !  "  cried  my  Lady.  "  How 
dare  you  !  Is  not  my  cousin  Philippe  my 
friend  and  my  protector,  and  the  noblest  lad 
that  ever  took  so  cowardly  a  one  as  you  for 
friend  !  It  is  your  treachery  and  ingratitude 
to  him  that  makes  you  say  it." 

"  Ha,  ha,  ha,  my  cousin  Philippe,  indeed  ! " 
laughed  Monsieur  Francois,  sneeringly.  "  Per- 
haps you  are  looking  to  Monsieur  Philippe 
for  your  future  happiness.  Madame  la  Mar- 
quis de  Saint-Rambert  would  not  sound  ill, 
in  truth.  It  is  easy  to  love  one's  cousin 
when  that  cousin  is  the  marquis  of  a  great 
estate.  But  never  fear,  my  haughty  young 
peacock,  Monsieur  de  Saint-Rambert  has 
other  game  in  view,  —  of  richer  plumage 
than  your  own.  Let  us  part  now ;  I  see  you 
are  unduly  excited.  You  will  perhaps  think 
better  of  my  offer  when  you  are  calm." 

The  black-hearted  villain !  A  villain  I 
always  felt  he  was  by  nature,  and  but  that  this 
ii 


1 62  MY  LADY: 

had  been  so  trying  an  hour  to  my  dear  girl, 
I  had  been  glad  of  this  chance  to  prove  it. 

She  stood  and  looked  at  him  a  minute, 
with  fixed  eyes,  and  cheeks  burning  with 
shame ;  the  feelings  in  her  made  so  con- 
flicting by  his  cowardly  words  that  she  scarce 
knew  herself.  Her  anger  and  shame  at  hav- 
ing been  accused  of  like  base  thoughts  to- 
wards her  noble  and  generous  cousin,  the 
contempt  she  felt  for  this  faithless,  snake- 
tongued  creature  before  her,  threw  her  into 
a  state  of  agitation  nigh  unto  frenzy.  She 
turned  her  eyes  upon  Master  Lion,  who, 
scenting  a  power  of  mischief  in  the  air,  had 
been  on  the  alert  for  a  word  from  my  Lady. 
But  she  did  not  speak;  she  only  looked 
at  him  mutely,  appealingly,  and  that  look 
said,  — 

"  Have  you  heard  him,  my  good  Lion, 
and  will  you  not  defend  me,  and  prove  to 
him  that  I  have  a  friend  beside  me  now?  " 

And  the  next  instant  the  dog  had  sprung 
upon  the  jeering  Francois  as  if  he  would 
tear  him  to  pieces,  and  held  him  round  the 
throat  for  a  brief  second  or  two,  till  the 
enemy  began  to  turn  a  little  blue  in  the  face. 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.          163 

Then  my  Lady,  seeing  the  dog's  power  over 
him,  spoke  but  a  single  word  to  Master  Lion, 
and  immediately  he  released  his  hold,  while 
the  much  dazed  and  scarified  suitor  took  to 
his  heels  down  the  valley,  and  was  not  seen 
or  heard  of  for  many  days  thereafter. 

Then  my  darling  and  her  champion  came 
home  together,  both  looking  very  wild  and 
excited.  My  sweet  girl  wept,  and  panted, 
and  could  not  get  her  breath  to  tell  me  what 
had  happened  for  nearly  an  hour,  though, 
judging  from  Master  Lion's  dishevelled  coat, 
I  fancied  they  must  have  encountered  a  real 
bear  or  some  other  vicious  animal. 


164 


MY  LADY: 


CHAPTER  XII. 


ASTER  LION  could  not 
get  over  it  any  more  than 
my  Lady;  he  prowled 
around  me  the  while  I 
bent  over  her  in  anxiety, 
begging  her  to  tell  me 
what  dire  thing  had  come 
to  pass.  The  more  she  sobbed  the  more  he 
howled,  uttering  savage  barks  now  and  then, 
as  though  at  some  evil  recollection. 

"You  stupid  dog,"  I  cried  impatiently, 
for  which  the  good  beast  bore  me  no  ill- 
will,  "  why  do  you  stand  there  showing  your 
big  teeth  and  yelping  at  me?  Why  don't 
you  speak  and  tell  me  what  it  is  that  has 
put  you  both  in  such  a  plight?  "  and  I  took 
his  enormous  head  in  my  hands,  and  looked 
at  him  steadily,  for  we  had  come  to  expect 
anything  and  everything  of  Master  Lion, 


A  STOKY  OF  LONG  AGO.          165 

even  to  wonders  which  I  verily  believed  he 
could  have  performed  if  he  had  been  asked. 

Speak  he  could  not,  dear  old  blessed 
Master  Lion  !  and  more  was  the  pity ;  but 
there  was  more  meaning  in  his  eyes,  as  he 
looked  up  at  me,  than  there  is  in  ordinary 
people's  speech,  and  I  might  have  guessed 
everything  from  him  if  my  darling  had  not 
right  here,  in  the  midst  of  her  weeping, 
laughed  outright  at  my  own  stupidity  in 
asking  poor  Master  Lion  to  speak.  Then 
she  told  me  what  had  passed,  and  the 
worthy  dog  confirmed  all  she  said  with  a 
variety  of  actions  and  noises  wholly  inca- 
pable of  being  described. 

You  may  well  imagine  my  state  of  mind 
when  she  had  finished.  I  was  in  a  mood 
to  exterminate  Monsieur  Francois  and  all 
his  tribe  from  the  face  of  Provence.  The 
very  effrontery  of  the  thing  took  my  breath 
away.  How  had  he  dared  speak  so,  or 
indeed  speak  at  all,  to  a  daughter  of  Saint- 
Rambert,  he  the  low-born  fellow !  How 
had  he  rewarded  my  young  master's  friend- 
ship but  to  insinuate  ill  of  him,  laying  pur- 
poses to  my  darling  that  could  come  only 


1 66  MY  LADY: 

from  his  own  base  imaginings  !  Oh  the 
very  ingratitude  of  it !  But  ingratitude 
itself  is  a  low-born  trait,  and  lives  but  in 
the  breasts  of  adders  and  their  semblants. 
Do  what  you  will  for  them,  they  will  turn 
round  and  sting  you  at  their  own  time ; 
for  they  are  creatures  of  the  soil  and  born 
to  crawl  upon  the  earth. 

"  Monsieur  le  Marquis  shall  hear  of  this," 
I  cried  in  indignation.  "I  will  go  to 
Madame  at  once.  That  contemptible  being 
must  not  tread  upon  Saint-Rambert  ground 
again  !  " 

"  Stay,  dear  Mistress  Anne,"  broke  in 
my  Lady,  who  was  now  more  self-contained 
than  I,  "  say  nothing  of  this  to  any  one ;  I 
cannot  bear  it." 

"  Nay,  nay,  my  sweet,  but  Madame  must 
know  of  it.  And  what  think  you  Monsieur 
le  Marquis  will  say  to  us  for  allowing  him 
still  to  have  aught  in  friendship  with  one 
who  seeks  to  offend  you  !  " 

"  Not  to  any  one,  dear  Anne,  please,"  my 
Lady  insisted,  - —  "  not  to  any  one,  not  even 
to  my  cousin  Philippe.  He  will  be  with 
us  again  before  another  year.  Then  will 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.          167 

be  time  enough  to  tell  him.  But  I  pray 
you,  let  us  speak  no  more  of  it  now." 

I  did  as  she  wished,  of  course,  —  I  had 
never  done  otherwise ;  and  we  were  silent 
on  the  subject  all  that  day,  though  my  own 
brain  was  in  a  state  of  perplexity  to  find 
invectives  strong  enough  and  suitable  for 
the  miscreant.  I  had  no  fear  of  his  trying 
to  see  her  or  speak  with  her  as  long  as 
Master  Lion  accompanied  her ;  but  I  knew 
him  for  a  sleek  coward  who  would  hide  his 
ugly  red  pate  till  his  chance  came  for  doing 
some  evil  trick.  Therefore  I  watched  my 
darling  with  furtive  eyes,  without  seeming 
to  do  so,  lest  she  should  suspect  I  gave  the 
matter  undue  importance,  sometimes  follow- 
ing her  in  her  little  walks  and  rides,  or  send- 
ing Julian  with  her  whenever  she  took  the 
hilly  road  to  the  chateau. 

Several  times,  however,  she  spoke  of  it, 
showing  me  the  thing  was  on  her  mind  and 
troubled  her  still. 

"You  do  not  believe  that  Philippe  could 
ever  think  I  loved  him  for  aught  but  himself, 
do  you,  Mistress  Anne?  " 

"  Do  I  believe  that  the  sun  ever  thinks  of 


1 68  My  LADY: 

darkness,  or  that  the  angels  dream  of  guile  ! 
No  more  can  Monsieur  Philippe  think  any 
ill  of  you,  my  love,"  I  answered  warmly, 
and  then  tried  to  turn  her  from  the  thought 
by  saying  :  "  Now  read  me  my  dear  young 
master's  last  bulletin  to  you.  I  should  like 
to  hear  again  about  that  paragon  friend  of 
his,  Monsieur  Lucien,  whom  he  writes  of 
constantly.  In  faith,  I  think  it  is  time  we 
were  all  waxing  jealous  of  him  with  hearing 
Monsieur  Philippe  sing  his  praises.  Yet  if 
he  answers  to  his  description,  I  am  inclined 
to  like  him  already." 

"Philippe  is  himself  so  true  and  stanch 
a  friend  that  I  hope  he  may  never  have 
another  comrade  less  so  than  he,"  said  my 
Lady. 

"  Aye,  aye,  to  that  wish,  say  I ;  but  I 
marvel  how  he  and  Monsieur  Lucien  will 
share  each  other's  notions  of  politics.  For 
my  young  Marquis  is,  Heaven  be  praised  ! 
a  true  royalist,  and  will  never  desert  his  own 
fair  colors  to  follow  the  conquering  armies 
of  the  new  Emperor." 

But  my  Lady  made  answer  :  "  Now,  Mis- 
tress Anne,  how  often  have  you  told  me,  in 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.  169 

speaking  to  me  of  my  dear  mother,  that 
notions  of  politics  and  rank  are  in  the  head, 
while  love  and  friendship  are  in  the  heart ! 
Philippe  will  be  faithful  both  to  his  cause 
and  to  his  friend,  believe  me." 

"  Now,  verily,  you  do  credit  to  my  teach- 
ings, Lady  mine,"  I  said,  surprised  at  her 
having  remembered  the  words;  and  thus 
we  drifted  on  in  our  talk  upon  other  sub- 
jects, about  which  my  darling  discoursed  as 
eloquently. 

So  time  passed  on,  and  nothing  of  great 
importance  happened  until  the  end  of  that 
autumn,  when  certain  news  came  to  me 
from  Wolverton,  which  scattered  what  small 
wits  I  had,  even  as  fallen  leaves  are  set 
a-spinning  by  a  sudden  November  gale.  It 
was  now  near  twelve  years  since  I  had  left 
our  English  home,  and  my  brother  David 
was  even  then  a  man  full  grown,  with  stiff 
ideas  about  love-making  and  matrimony, 
ever  making  jest  of  me  for  that  my  head 
was  full  of  lovelorn  rubbish,  and  telling  me 
a  man,  and  a  woman  too  for  that  matter, 
was  aye  better  without  it.  I  had  that  faith 
in  his  firmness  in  such  matters  that  I  often 


I  70  MY  LADY: 

said,  "  David  will  live  a  bachelor  all  his  days, 
and  I  know  not  whether  to  be  sorry  or 
glad,  though  I  do  know  there  is  not  a  woman 
in  all  our  country  good  enough  for  him."  I 
had  as  soon  thought  of  doubting  the  words 
of  prophets,  or  the  faith  of  martyrs,  as 
dream  that  David  should  ever  waver  in  this 
belief  or  weaken  in  his  principles. 

Now,  what  was  not  my  utter  bewilder- 
ment to  learn  from  his  own  writing  of  it  — 
I  should  never  have  believed  else  —  that  he 
was  now  betrothed  to  a  young  lass  of  our 
town  whom  I  did  not  know,  but  who,  he 
said,  was  as  bright  and  sweet  as  a  new 
primrose,  and  whose  many  virtues  he  lauded 
with  the  ardor  and  glibness  of  a  Romeo.  It 
shook  my  faith  in  human  kind  more  than  in 
David,  and  I  think  that  when  I  recovered 
from  my  vast  surprise,  I  loved  him  all  the 
more  for  it,  recognizing  in  him  that  one 
touch  of  nature  which  links  us  all  in  com- 
mon brotherhood.  I  knew  his  great  stout 
heart  needed  that  sweet  food  which  makes 
strong  men  tender.  He  was  not  o'er  young 
to  marry,  —  having  left  his  one-and-thirty 
years  a  good  bit  behind ;  but  to  me,  and 


A  STOKY  OF  LONG  AGO.          171 

all  who  love  him,  David  was  ever  young  and 
good  to  look  at.  His  smooth,  round  boy- 
ish face,  the  mirror  of  his  sunny  nature,  has 
never  lost  its  brightness  or  its  kindliness; 
and  I  felt  sure  that  the  maiden  who  had  won 
his  heart  to  her  had  won  a  mint  of  priceless 
gold. 

They  were  to  be  wed  that  Martlemas,  af- 
ter the  autumn  crops  had  been  harvested 
and  stowed  away,  so  that  David  might  in  all 
freedom  of  conscience  betake  himself  and 
his  young  bride  to  London-town  for  a  honey- 
moon journey.  Bless  my  heart,  what  a  pro- 
gressive generation  it  is,  to  be  sure  ! 

When  I  told  my  Lady  of  the  fact,  she 
would  not  rest  till  we  had  packed  a  chest 
full  of  gifts  for  the  happy  pair,  all  manner  of 
beautiful  and  useless  things  for  the  likes  of  a 
yeoman's  wife.  Nevertheless,  they  all  went, 
together  with  our  good  wishes  and  blessings 
to  them  both;  for  my  darling,  though  re- 
membering David  but  dimly,  had  kept  a 
lively  interest  in  him  through  my  mentioning 
him  so  often.  I  was  happy  for  the  dear 
brother.  Be  it  far  from  me  to  have  been 
otherwise  !  But  the  vivid  picture  of  his 


172  MY  LADY: 

happiness  flashing  so  suddenly  before  me 
took  me  back,  in  spite  of  myself,  with  some 
regret  to  our  little  town  of  Wolverton,  so  far 
away  beyond  the  waters,  where  so  much  of 
my  own  young  happiness  lay  buried. 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.  173 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


NCE  more  the  sweet  May- 
time  was  with  us,  and 
Provence  everywhere  lay 
smiling  and  radiant  ; 
for  though  here  the 
sun's  rays  never  quite 
lose  their  genial  warmth,  the  year  around, 
yet  here,  too,  the  springtime  is  ever  wel- 
come, ever  fresh  and  beauteous;  not  like 
the  white  spirit  of  the  North,  rising  from  its 
grave  of  killing  winters,  but  rather  as  one 
that  wakes  from  dreams  of  love  and  para- 
dise. The  little  streams  came  tumbling 
down  the  mountain  side  with  a  new  frolic- 
some rippling,  murmuring  their  way  in  and 
out  of  our  lemon-groves  awhile,  and  then 
darting  suddenly  down  to  join  the  swift  and 
noisy  Rhone.  Everywhere  the  pale  hya- 
cinths lifted  their  heads  among  the  green, 
the  violets  peered  out  from  between  the 


174  MY  LADY: 

young  trefoil,  and  the  fields  and  hill-slopes 
were  purple  with  anemones.  The  delicate 
foliage  of  the  olive  and  pepper  trees  sifted 
the  rays  of  the  noonday  sun,  flecking  the 
velvet  sward  beneath  with  patches  of  bright 
gold ;  while  the  first  breath  of  approaching 
summer  came  in  at  the  open  windows  with 
that  lulling,  soothing  sense  of  peace  which 
has  no  earthly  name. 

My  Lady  spent  much  of  her  time  in  her 
little  garden,  —  the  place  that  she  loved  best, 
for  it  was  rich  in  fresh,  wholesome,  simple 
flowers,  full  of  life  and  vigor  like  herself,  that 
grew  of  their  own  fancy  as  freely  as  they 
might  have  done  on  the  lap  of  yonder  moun- 
tains. No  gardener's  spade  ever  touched 
their  tender  roots,  nor  did  their  stems  know 
the  sharp  edge  of  his  scythe ;  and  none  but 
my  Lady  ever  plucked  them  from  their  hid- 
ing-place. Vines  and  mosses  climbed  at 
their  pleasure  over  the  old  stone-wall  that 
enclosed  it,  and  two  leafy  mulberry-trees 
stretched  out  their  branches  between  it  and 
the  blue  heavens.  It  was  a  quaint  little  gar- 
den, fair  and  beautiful  as  though  the  hand 
of  God  had  made  it ;  and  my  darling  loved 


"  In  her  little  garden." 


A  STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.  177 

it  better  than  all  the  magnificent  parks  and 
flowered  terraces  of  the  great  chateau.  She 
had  played  in  it  when  a  child,  and  now  she 
liked  nothing  better  than  to  sit  here  and 
dream  all  the  pleasant  visions  that  lure  us 
when  we  look  into  the  future  with  the  eyes 
of  hope  and  youth. 

We  were  now  expecting  Monsieur  le  Mar- 
quis home  on  a  furlough  of  some  months ; 
his  years  at  college  being  near  at  an  end, 
and  it  being  the  custom  of  young  students 
to  ask  for  leave  of  absence  in  which  to  rest 
and  muster  up  their  courage  for  the  final 
labors.  News  had  been  brought  that  they 
were  now  at  Avignon.  I  say  they,  because, 
of  course,  my  young  master  had  brought  his 
bosom-friend  home  with  him,  —  Monsieur 
Lucien  Dancourt,  I  think  he  wrote,  though 
I  am  never  quite  certain,  even  now,  of  these 
new  French  names ;  and  the  coach  had  been 
sent  to  the  city  after  them,  and  we  were 
awaiting  them  hourly,  I  might  say.  My  dar- 
ling was  in  a  state  of  pretty  excitement,  and 
she  and  Master  Lion  had  been  back  and 
forth  from  the  chateau  a  dozen  times  that 

morning.     For  Madame  must  have  on  her 
12 


178  MY  LADY: 

best  lace  mantilla,  and  her  pretty  hair 
dressed  in  a  row  of  smooth,  soft  curls  on 
each  side  of  her  face  in  the  way  that  so  well 
became  her,  and  I  must  wear  my  new  cap, 
all  in  readiness  to  receive  the  young  master. 

"  Now,  Master  Lion,  see  that  you  give  a 
good  loud  bark  the  minute  they  enter  at  the 
iron  gate,"  said  my  Lady ;  and  she  pointed 
her  ringer  at  the  dog,  as  she  did  in  teaching 
him  a  lesson.  "  And  now  come  and  let  me 
put  some  flowers  in  your  collar,  else  you 
shall  not  be  in  festive  garb  for  your  master's 
coming; "  saying  which  she  led  him  into  the 
little  garden  and  was  bending  over  him  so 
busily,  and  they  were  both  so  absorbed  in 
the  task,  that  they  heard  not  the  creaking  of 
the  old  garden-gate  on  its  hinges,  nor  heard 
any  footsteps  behind  them,  till  a  tall  shadow 
fell  across  them  both,  and  a  voice,  deep  and 
soft,  said, — 

"  My  Lady  !  " 

Then  there  was  a  cry  of  joyful  surprise 
that  brought  me  at  once  to  the  window,  and 
Master  Lion  frisked  and  scratched  around 
in  such  mad  frenzy,  uttering  such  loud  barks 
of  welcome,  that  I  could  not  catch  a  word 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.          179 

of  what  was  said  till  several  minutes  after. 
I  saw  Monsieur  Philippe  set  his  eyes  on  my 
darling  with  a  look  that  was  new  to  his 
handsome  young  face.  He  turned  a  little 
pale  and  then  flushed  red,  as  a  maiden  might 
have  done  at  sight  of  her  lover.  But  my 
Lady  saw  it  not,  for  she  had  thrown  her 
arms  about  him,  and  her  head  rested  on 
his  shoulder,  while  she  laughed  and  wept  all 
at  once,  saying,  — 

"Oh,  Philippe,  Philippe,  how  was  it  you 
did  not  let  me  know  you  were  so  near  !  I 
scarce  knew  you  when  I  looked  up ;  you  are 
grown  so  tall,  so  serious,  —  so  like  a  Marquis, 
in  truth ;  "  and  she  held  him  off  at  arms1 
length  and  looked  at  him  full  in  the  face, 
without  a  flutter,  without  a  drooping  of  her 
long  lashes,  without  a  blush  save  that  of  hon- 
est pleasure  at  seeing  again  her  dear  cousin. 

Then  he  saw  that  her  heart  was  as  yet 
unopened,  that  she  was  still  the  child  he 
had  left  her  three  years  agone,  though 
changed  in  many  other  ways. 

"  How  could  I  let  you  know  better  than 
in  coming  myself?"  he  said,  in  the  same 
tender  tones.  "  I  would  have  no  one  else 


i8o  MY  LADY: 

come ;  for  I  meant  to  surprise  you  well. 
And  you  are  glad  to  see  me,  cousin?" 

"  Glad  !  "  exclaimed  my  darling,  her  face 
all  smiles.  "How  can  you  ask  it?" 

"To  hear  you  say  it,  Maidie  dear;  it  is 
such  a  sweet  welcome." 

"Then  will  I  say  it  a  thousand  times, 
until  you  weary  of  me ;  "  and  she  smiled  at 
him  roguishly.  "  But,  Philippe,"  she  added, 
"  you  have  not  said  what  you  think  of  me 
after  your  long  absence.  Have  I  not  grown 
very  tall,  and  very  much  like  a  lady?" 

"  Very  tall,  very  sweet,  a  lady,  and  very 
beautiful,"  returned  the  young  Marquis, 
meaning  it  every  word. 

"  How  you  have  learned  to  say  pretty 
things ! "  exclaimed  my  Lady,  looking 
pleased;  "but  now,  truly,  I  had  not 
meant  to  beg  for  them." 

"  I  had  said  it  and  more,  too,  had  you 
given  me  time,"  said  the  Marquis,  play- 
fully; "but  you  are  still  as  fond  of  chat- 
tering as  a  linnet,  and,  indeed,  I  had  not 
the  chance." 

"  'T  was  not  quite  that  I  meant,  Philippe, 
in  asking  you  the  question ;  what  I  would 


A  STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.          181 

know  is,  if  you  think  me  changed,"  she 
said,  slipping  her  arm  in  his  and  looking 
at  him  affectionately,  —  "  changed  as  you 
feared  I  might  towards  you  ?  " 

"Thank  God,  no!"  replied  my  young 
master,  and  spoke  so  earnestly  that  they 
both  remained  silent  for  a  moment. 

"  Now  tell  me  all  that  has  happened 
these  years  that  I  have  been  away,"  he  said, 
laying  his  hand  over  her  small  white  one,  as 
it  rested  on  his  dark  velvet  sleeve,  as  a 
flower-leaf  rests  upon  a  moss- bank. 

There  was  much  to  tell,  and  she  enter- 
tained him  for  a  full  half-hour,  talking 
animatedly,  and  laughing  much  in  her  joy 
at  being  with  him  again ;  while  he  watched 
her  intently  with  eyes  that,  in  themselves, 
were  worth  a  whole  summer  of  love-making. 
It  was  then,  as  they  sat  together  on  the  old 
garden-seat,  with  the  darkening  mulberries 
hanging  over  their  heads,  that  I  realized 
fully  the  change  that  had  come  over  the 
young  Marquis,  and  what  the  three  years 
of  absence  had  done  for  him.  He  was  but 
a  month  twenty,  and  yet  he  was  exceeding 
tall,  and  his  face  was  taking  on  a  manly 


1 82  MY  LADY: 

sturdiness  that  well  became  his  young  Lord- 
ship. All  this  did  not  escape  my  Lady's 
notice  any  more  than  it  did  mine ;  for  every 
now  and  then,  in  the  midst  of  their  confi- 
dences, she  would  stop  and  eye  him  with  a 
curious  mixture  of  mirth  and  awe,  address- 
ing him  as  "Your  Excellence  "  and  "Your 
Highness,"  with  her  pretty  Provengal  court- 
liness, which  amused  and  pleased  my  young 
Marquis  wondrously. 

Yet  there  was  something  more  in  Mon- 
sieur Philippe's  face,  which  my  Lady's 
eyes  were  not  so  keen  as  mine  to  discover, 
perhaps  because  mine  are  much  older  and 
better  schooled  in  such  matters.  Be  that 
as  it  may,  I  thought  I  read  in  my  dear 
Philippe's  look  a  something  which  told  me 
that  the  one  hope  I  had  cherished  for  my 
darling  was  budding  on  apace,  and  I 
rejoiced  secretly.  I  knew  it  for  a  certainty 
when  she  related  to  him,  as  best  she  could, 
what  had  taken  place  between  herself  and 
Monsieur  Frangois.  a  summer  past.  The 
young  Marquis  turned  very  serious,  and  for 
the  first  time  since  I  had  known  him,  I  saw 
an  angry  flame  light  up  his  blue  eyes. 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.  183 

"  You  have  not  seen  him  or  spoken  with 
him  since,  Maidie?"  he  asked,  with  much 
concern. 

"  Never  once,  Philippe,"  said  my  Lady. 

"  And  why  did  you  not  let  me  know  of 
this  before?" 

"  I  would  not  have  Mistress  Anne  speak 
of  it  to  any  one,  and  I  could  not  write  it 
you,  nor  even  bear  the  thought  of  ever 
telling  you  then.  You  had  been  so  kind  to 
him,  and  he  spoke  treacherously  of  you." 

"  I  can  easily  forgive  any  wrong  he  may 
have  done  me,  but  never  his  cowardliness 
in  hurting  you  when  I  was  not  by  to  defend 
you."  And  my  young  master  said  truly. 
Never  did  he  speak  of  Monsieur  Francois 
after  that  day,  either  for  good  or  ill,  —  for 
Monsieur  Philippe  belonged  to  that  class 
of  noblemen  who  say  evil  of  none,  giving 
them  rather  the  charity  of  their  silence; 
but  from  that  time  the  two  were  enemies. 

"  You  believe,  do  you  not,  that  I  am 
your  friend  and  protector,  and  wish  to.  be 
so  always?"  said  he. 

"  How  can  I  do  otherwise  than  believe 
it,  Philippe,  when  you  have  done  already 


1 84  MY  LADY: 

so  much  to  prove  your  kindly  feeling  for 
me  !  "  she  said,  and  her  eyes  glistened  a 
little  at  the  tender  emotion  quickened  by 
his  words. 

"  Not  half  enough,"  he  rejoined ;  "  not  as 
much  as  I  hope  to  do  when  I  am  of  age 
and  the  Marquis  of  Saint- Rambert  indeed, 
and  shall  have  the  right  to  do  all  I  wish  for 
you ; "  and  his  smile  as  he  spoke  these 
words  was  like  the  rainbow  that  spans  the 
firmament  after  a  summer  rain. 

My  Lady  thanked  him  with  her  eyes,  and 
then  said  suddenly :  "  But  come,  Philippe, 
you  must  go  in  and  see  Mistress  Anne,  who 
will  be  mightily  jealous  at  my  having  kept 
you  from  her  so  long ;  "  never  dreaming,  the 
blessed  child,  that  I  had  been  feasting  my 
curious  eyes  on  them,  lo,  these  many 
minutes.  "  Come,  Master  Lion,"  she  added, 
turning  to  the  brave  fellow,  who  shook  him- 
self from  a  long  and  blissful  snoozing  state, 
during  which  he  had  given  assent  to  all 
that  was  said  between  his  master  and  mis- 
tress by  frequent  gruntings  and  contented 
yawns.  And  they  rose  and  walked  towards 
the  house. 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.  185 

Then  I  straightway  rearranged  my  best 
cap,  which  had  fallen  a  bit  awry  with  lean- 
ing too  far  out  of  the  window,  and  went 
forth  in  all  seeming  innocence  to  greet  my 
young  Marquis. 


1 86  MY  LADY: 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

HAT  evening  we  all 
spent  at  the  chateau, 
dining  there  in  great 
state,  as  the  young  mar- 
quis's fine  friend  was 
here,  and  we  must  needs  put  on  a  few 
grand  airs  in  honor  of  his  coming.  We 
were  but  simple  folk  at  the  chateau,  our 
great  name  and  splendid  house  notwith- 
standing, and  had  lived  as  simple,  un- 
eventful lives  as  need  be  until  that  time. 
But  now,  indeed,  the  old  place  seemed 
transformed  with  its  brilliant  lights  and 
festive  air,  and  Madame  in  her  grande 
toilette  and  my  darling  looking  as  blush- 
ing and  graceful  as  a  bended  rose,  and  the 
two  young  gentlemen  resplendent  in  their 
velvet  court-dress.  I  thought  myself  in 
the  gay  world  whereof  I  had  heard  so 
much,  when  I  gazed  on  it  all  and  wondered 


A  STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.          187 

if  we  were  not  dreaming.  It  was  the  be- 
ginning of  a  gay  season  for  me,  I  do  assure 
you ;  for  what  with  keeping  up  with  all  the 
festivities  at  the  big  house,  —  and  I  would 
not  have  missed  one  of  them,  though  I 
never  did  more  than  to  sit  off  and  look  on 
at  the  merry  doings,  —  and  my  own  house- 
matters,  and  other  things  of  great  moment 
which  took  a  deal  of  my  attention  to  ward 
off  their  happening,  I  led  a  busy  life. 

Now,  that  first  night  when  I  set  eyes  on 
Monsieur  Lucien  Dancourt,  I  was  struck 
with  a  sudden  feeling  which  I  am  at  loss 
to  describe.  It  was  both  admiration  and 
wonder ;  and  yet  I  could  not  reason  up- 
on it,  for  it  was  not  my  way  to  admire 
folk  at  a  first  glance,  at  least,  —  not  until  I 
had  looked  a  way  beyond  and  found  some- 
thing worth  admiring  within.  The  con- 
trast 'twixt  him  and  Monsieur  Philippe 
was  very  marked.  He  was  dark  of  hair 
and  eyes ;  and  though  but  a  few  years  the 
elder,  his  look  was  grave  and  serious,  like 
that  of  a  student^  a  great  artist,  or  a  genius. 
His  brows  were  deep  and  regular,  lending 
a  shadow  to  his  eyes;  his  lips  were  firm 


1 88  MY  LADY: 

and  even  severe  save  when  he  smiled,  and 
then  his  mouth  arched  a  little,  and  such 
a  radiance  o'erspread  his  whole  counte- 
nance, as  when  a  straying  sunbeam  enters 
and  makes  glory  in  a  darkened  place.  His 
eyes  grew  soft  and  full  of  light,  and  only 
then  could  one  guess  what  power  would  lurk 
in  them  when  once  the  fire  of  love  possessed 
him. 

I  had  never  seen  his  like  before.  But  he 
was  just  the  man  to  turn  a  woman's  head,  I 
knew  it,  —  to  make  her  go  mad  with  loving 
him,  and  break  her  heart  or  make  her 
supremely  happy,  as  his  fancy  chose  ;  and 
withal  he  had  a  high-born  look.  I  could 
scarce  take  my  eyes  from  him ;  and  when 
I  did  so,  it  was  only  to  glance  at  my  Maidie, 
who,  I  saw  in  an  instant,  was  even  more 
bewitched  than  I  was  myself.  I  had  always 
thought  her  fair  to  look  upon ;  but  now, 
as  she  sat  under  the  brilliant  lights,  in  her 
soft  silken  gown,  her  cheeks  aglow  with 
this  first  taste  of  worldly  excitement,  her 
eyes  sparkling  with  a  deep  violet  fire,  I 
thought  her  the  very  picture  of  maiden 
loveliness.  I  watched  her  with  as  much 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.          189 

surprise  as  admiration.  All  the  evening  she 
talked  as  wittingly  and  disported  herself 
with  as  much  ease  and  grace  as  though  she 
had  been  brought  up  at  the  Emperor's  gay 
court.  It  was  the  ease  and  grace  of  a  well- 
born woman,  which  I  knew  her  to  possess ; 
yet  to  me  she  was  still  such  a  child  that 
I  was  scarce  prepared  to  see  her  blossom- 
ing all  in  one  night  into  a  grande  dame 
of  the  world. 

Was  it  the  sight  of  that  dark,  handsome 
face,  the  magic  of  those  subtle  eyes,  the 
power  of  that  witching  smile  that  had 
touched  the  hidden  spring  in  my  darling's 
heart,  which  my  young  Marquis  had  sought 
in  vain  that  very  morning,  and  through 
which  her  very  soul  now  came  leaping  forth 
as  on  the  wings  of  a  new  life  !  I  knew  not ; 
but  I  saw  it  all,  —  this  unexpected  change  in 
her,  —  through  a  dim  mist  that  filled  my  eyes, 
and  felt  with  sudden  chill  disappointment 
all  my  airy  castles  of  twelve  years'  building 
tumbling  sadly  about  my  foolish  head. 

Now,  Monsieur  le  Marquis  was  mightily 
pleased  at  the  favor  shown  to  his  friend  by 
those  at  his  home ;  for  Madame  took  him 


190  MY  LADY: 

to  her  heart  at  once,  first  as  Philippe's  com- 
rade, and  then  for  his  own  sake,  admiring 
him  greatly  because  of  his  gentle  courtliness 
and  pretty  attentions  to  her,  which  reminded 
her  of  her  own  days  of  youth  and  pros- 
perity. But  Monsieur  Philippe  was  mostly 
pleased  at  Maidie's  pretty  welcome  to  him. 
He  had  spoken  of  his  fair  cousin  to  his 
friend  sometimes,  though  cautiously ;  for 
being  still  of  tender  years,  he  was  afraid 
of  his  secret,  and  held  it  close  enshrined 
in  his  heart  as  some  sacred  thing.  Monsieur 
Lucien  and  my  young  master,  during  their 
years  at  college,  had  grown  together  in 
closest  friendship,  —  such  a  friendship  as 
one  reads  of  in  ancient  lore  of  heroic  deeds 
among  men.  It  was  beautiful  to  see  them 
together,  so  strong,  so  true,  so  bound  in 
heart  to  one  another,  sharing  each  other's 
thoughts  as  brothers;  and  yet  the  young 
Marquis  had  for  some  nameless  cause  with- 
held this  one  thing  from  him,  that  Fate,  no 
doubt,  might  have  its  jealous  way.  They 
differed  on  a  few  subjects,  as  good  friends 
must  needs  do  to  remain  such ;  for  Monsieur 
Philippe  was  a  Saint- Rambert,  and  hence 


OF  LONG  AGO.  191 

a  royalist,  and  Monsieur  Lucien  was  a  true 
son  of  the  republic,  though  a  nobleman 
of  the  truest  sort ;  but  there  was  between 
them  a  brotherhood  that  levelled  all  dif- 
ferences of  opinion  and  education,  so  that 
while  Monsieur  le  Marquis  said,  "Vive 
1'ancien  regime  ! "  Monsieur  Lucien  flour- 
ished his  sword  in  the  air  and  cried,  "  Vive 
PEmpereur !  "  and  still  they  were  the  best 
of  friends. 

When  we  rode  home  in  the  yellow  coach 
that  night,  my  Lady  —  all  wrapped  in  her 
fleecy  snood,  for  the  night  air  is  always  a 
bit  fresh  even  in  the  spring-time  in  Pro- 
vence, —  my  Lady,  I  say,  could  talk  of  nothing 
else  but  of  Cousin  Philippe's  friend.  Her 
brain  was  full  of  him,  of  his  look,  his  words, 
his  fine  bearing,  — which  was  princely  enough, 
in  truth,  though  he  did  not  spell  his  name 
with  an  apostrophe,  as  his  ancestors  had 
doubtless  clone  a  few  generations  back. 

"  You  do  not  wonder  now,  Mistress  Anne, 
that  Philippe  is  fond  of  him  and  has  spoken 
of  him  much  in  his  letters,"  said  my  darling, 
after  dealing  me  an  endless  chapter  on  the 
attractions  she  had  discovered  in  him. 


1 92  MY  LADY: 

"  I  do  not  wonder  at  anything  Monsieur 
le  Marquis  does,  for  all  that  he  does  is 
well,"  said  I. 

"And  you  think  him  well-looking?" 

"Well-looking  enough,  as  men  of  the 
world  go,"  I  answered  with  a  shrug.  "They 
are  all  more  or  less  so ;  at  least,  they  make 
one  think  so  with  their  smooth  sleek  ways, 
and  the  fine  airs  they  put  upon  themselves 
when  they  look  at  one.  His  countenance 
is  not  bad,  in  truth,  but  Monsieur  Philippe's 
eyes  are  more  to  my  liking ;  "  for  I  would 
not  think  too  well  of  the  new-comer  so 
soon,  nor  yet  have  her  do  so. 

"Philippe  is  so  different,"  said  my  Lady, 
musingly ;  "  perhaps  that  is  why  they  admire 
each  other  so  much.  We  know  and  love 
Philippe  so  well  that  no  one,  of  course, 
can  seem  quite  perfect  beside  him,  but 
Monsieur  Dancourt  is  a  worthy  friend." 

I  felt  somewhat  reassured  at  this,  and 
said :  "  Monsieur  your  cousin  has  such  a 
face  as  the  good  Fra  Angelico  might  have 
been  glad  to  look  upon  for  a  model,  and 
one  may  read  his  soul  in  it ;  but  Monsieur 
Lucien's  face  is  like  that  of  your  favorite 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.  193 

heroes    in   romance,    dark   and   mysterious, 
and  one  can  make  nothing  out  of  it." 

My  Lady  laughed,  — a  happy,  rippling 
laugh,  as  fresh  a  laugh  as  ever  came  from  the 
lips  of  a  light-hearted  maiden,  and  patted 
me  on  the  cheek,  saying,  — 

"  What  a  dear,  jealous  Mistress  Anne  you 
are !  Then  you  are  almost  as  fond  of 
Philippe  as  you  are  of  your  Maidie?"  and 
she  peered"  into  my  face  with  her  saucy, 
kitten-like  way. 

"  Almost,"  I  made  answer. 
"That  is  well,"  she  said,  "and  I  am  not 
jealous,  you  see.  And  now  you  must  like 
Monsieur  Dancourt  for  Philippe's  sake,  and 
be  very  kind  to  him  to-morrow,  for  they 
are  coining  to  see  us  at  the  farm  in  the 
morning,  to  sit  in  my  little  garden,  and 
drink  a  cup  of  our  very  best  milk." 

And  that  is  the  way  the  whole  thing 
started.  From  that  hour  I  had  but  little 
peace  of  mind  or  body,  for  it  began  all 
over  again,  —  their  going  back  and  forth  from 
the  chateau,  just  as  they  used  to  do  when 
they  were  children;  every  day  or  oftener, 
on  some  pretext  or  other,  the  three  were  to- 
'3 


194  MY  LADY: 

gather,  and  I  was  fain  to  keep  my  eyes 
wide-open  to  see  that  no  mischief  came  of 
it.  But  do  what  I  would,  the  mischief  did 
come ;  and  eager  as  my  watching  had  been, 
I  got  no  inkling  of  the  matter  till  it  was 
too  late.  However,  I  might  have  known 
how  it  would  be.  Had  I  not  had  experi- 
ence enough  in  my  long  life  to  teach  me 
that  the  heart  of  woman  is  born  and  bred  in 
perversity  !  I  might  have  known  that  this 
dashing  youth,  with  his  fine  smile  and  courtly 
graces,  coming  fresh  and  new  from  abroad, 
with  that  touch  and  tinge  of  the  gay  world 
about  him  which  is  the  finest  and  surest 
web  for  trapping  young  hearts,  —  I  might 
have  foreseen,  indeed,  that  he  would  come 
into  our  quiet  lives  like  a  thunderbolt,  and 
stir  up  our  monotony  a  bit  too  much  may- 
hap. Still,  I  held  my  peace  ;  for  where  is 
the  use  of  words  in  fighting  against  such 
things?  Words  never  do  anything  but  harm 
as  I  knew  well  from  having  heard  too  many 
of  them  in  the  days  of  my  own  wayward- 
ness. She  would  go  mad  with  loving  him, 
I  saw  it  from  the  first :  she  was  just  the 
one  to  do  it,  so  quick,  so  impetuous,  so 


A  STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.          195 

wilful  when  she  set  her  mind  to  anything, 
so  like  her  dear  young  mother,  the  saints 
bless  her  memory !  and  he  would  love  her 
in  turn,  how  could  he  help  himself?  and 
that  would  be  the  end  of  all  my  dreams. 
And  what  was  to  become  of  my  dear  young 
master  afterwards,  I  should  like  to  know ! 
So  I  fretted  myself  with  thinking  of  all 
this,  and  wondered  what  evil  I  had  done 
in  this  world,  that  every  hope  I  had  nursed, 
either  for  myself  or  others,  through  my 
whole  life,  should  have  turned  upon  me 
like  an  enemy ! 

But  this  loving  is  a  wondrous  thing,  after 
all,  say  what  you  will,  —  you  who  laugh  at  my 
silly  notions  about  it,  and  say  that  love  is  out 
of  the  fashion.  Out  of  the  fashion,  indeed  ! 
Perhaps  you  think  so  now,  but  have  a  care 
lest  some  day  you  too  are  laid  a  victim  to 
the  gentle  malady,  and  I  turn  round  and 
smile  at  you,  even  as  I  smile  at  David  for 
his  downfall,  though  Heaven  knows  I  do  so 
without  malice.  I  am  older  than  you  who 
read  these  pages,  mayhap,  yet  I  am  not  too 
old,  and  may  I  never  be  too  old,  to  look 
tenderly  upon  a  heart  that  trembles  at  the 


196  MY  LADY: 

approach  of  Love,  as  doth  a  waking  flower- 
bud  at  the  first  kiss  of  morning.  Ah,  no, 
one  is  never  too  old  to  say  sweet  things 
of  loving,  for  there  is  naught  else  in  life 
so  beautiful,  or  that  so  long  endures.  Love 
has  not  always  been  kind  to  me ;  but  what 
matters  that !  I  am  still  loving  and  foolish 
enough  to  bless  love  wherever  I  see  it,  and 
grieve  only  a  little  by  the  wayside  that  so  ill 
a  portion  of  it  hath  been  mine. 


A  S7VJ?y  OF  LONG  AGO. 


197 


CHAPTER  XV. 


HERE   was  a  pret- 
tier road  than  the 
one  we  were  wont 
to   take    from    the 
Dependance  to  the 
chateau,  —  a  round- 
about   way,  to    be 
sure,  but  one  which  the  young   folk  called 
picturesque,  because  it  crossed  two  or  three 
rustic  bridges  that  spanned  our  little  rivulet, 
and  went  winding  in  and  out  the  woodland, 
and  over  gentle  hill-slopes,  with  only  a  nar- 
row foot  or  bridle  path  marked  out  among 
the    grasses.      Passing    by    our    house,    it 
stretched  its  pretty  way  through  our  farm- 
lands and  lemon-groves,  and  thence  led  on- 
ward a  few  leagues  off  to  the  walls  of  the 
city.     And  many  who  needed  not  to  travel 
in  great  haste  took  this  way  in  their  goings 


198  My  LADY: 


and  comings,  preferring  its  narrow  loneliness 
and  the  cool  shadow  of  its  skirting  trees  to 
the  hot  and  sandy  open  road,  where  coach 
and  cart  raised  a  mighty  cloud  of  dust. 

Monsieur  Lucien,  sometimes  accompanied 
by  the  young  Marquis  and  sometimes  alone, 
would  often  take  this  way  to  town,  whither  he 
travelled  every  day  or  so,  to  hear  a  little 
what  was  going  on  in  the  busy  world,  and  to 
learn  what  great  victories  had  been  won  by 
the  Emperor's  armies,  for  his  mind  was  full 
of  it  and  nothing  else.  He  was  just  the  man 
to  take  delight  in  all  the  daring  deeds  of 
war,  with  that  serious,  handsome  face  of  his, 
and  he  was  even  then  awaiting  some  papers 
or  orders,  I  know  not  precisely  what,  to  join 
the  great  expedition  to  the  Nile. 

Now,  for  the  life  of  me,  I  could  not  see 
why  he  should  sigh  for  that  dark  land  of 
Egypt,  with  nothing  better  offering  than  the 
smell  of  gunpowder,  while  the  plains  of 
Provence  lay  smiling  and  glorious  before 
him,  nor  why  Monsieur  Philippe  should  lis- 
ten to  him  so  eagerly  when  he  spoke  of  it, 
and  envy  him  a  little  his  five-and-twenty 
years,  and  his  free  line  of  thinking,  that 


A   STORY  Of  LONG  AGO.          199 

made  it  just  for  him  to  engage  in  such  allur- 
ing pursuits.  Ever  since  I  first  began  to 
notice  what  a  power  he  had  to  bewitch  my 
darling,  I  had  watched  her  closely  and  with 
a  jealous  eye,  seeing  how  every  day  uncon- 
sciously he  drew  the  gilded  net  of  his  fascina- 
tion closer  around  her,  as  a  spider  wraps  its 
web  about  the  heedless  fly  fallen  in  its  way. 
I  saw  the  color  come  and  go  in  her  cheeks 
when  he  spoke  to  her;  that  when  he  was 
near  her  she  seemed  to  see  no  one  else ;  how 
quiet  and  thoughtful  she  grew  when  she  was 
alone,  sitting  for  a  long  time  beside  the 
oriel-window,  her  hands  fallen  idle  over  the 
work  in  her  lap,  and  a  dreamy,  far-away 
look  in  her  blue  eyes ;  and  in  her  eyes  I 
could  almost  read  every  thought  that  was  in 
her  mind.  Sometimes  they  were  soft  and 
velvety  as  the  hearts  of  purple  pansies,  and 
sometimes  they  were  deep  and  liquid  like 
big  blue  lakes. 

"  There  is  no  mistaking  it,"  said  I  to  my- 
self; "  it  always  begins  with  these  signs.  Oh 
that  I  had  a  remedy  for  it,  — some  good 
strong  herb  to  cool  the  fever  of  it !  But  try 
to  turn  backwards  the  swift  course  of  the 


200  MY  LADY: 

Rhone,  and  you  will  sooner  succeed  than  turn 
the  course  of  true  love  from  one  channel  into 
another."  She  did  not  speak  of  her  love  to 
me,  for  young  things  are  shy  to  speak  of  it 
when  it  first  comes  upon  them.  I  hardly 
know  whether  she  called  her  feeling  for 
Monsieur  Dancourt  by  that  name  as  yet. 
She  was  so  young,  so  untaught  in  such  mat- 
ters. But  there  was  little  need  of  words.  I 
guessed  it  all,  as  every  one  else  might  have 
done  if  they  had  chosen ;  as  he  himself 
might,  had  he  not  been  as  blind  as  an  owl  in 
the  daytime.  But  his  head  was  so  full  of 
the  fighting,  and  his  heart  so  eager  with  the 
desire  to  join  it,  and  his  face  always  so  like 
a  mystery  to  me  for  comprehension,  that  I 
could  never  read  his  thoughts,  nor  make  out 
truly  how  he  regarded  my  Lady. 

One  day  I  saw  her  tie  on  her  big  white 
hat  with  the  wreath  of  daisies  around  it,  and 
stand  several  minutes  before  the  mirror  ar- 
ranging her  wayward  curls  beneath  it ;  then 
she  went  out  without  calling  Master  Lion. 
She  had  done  so  several  times  of  late,  and 
it  began  to  fret  me.  Thinks  I,  there  's  mis- 
chief brewing  in  the  air,  and  there  is  naught 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.  2OI 

for  me  to  do  but  to  follow  and  see  what 's 
the  meaning  of  it.  So  I  took  up  my  spec- 
tacles that  I  might  better  see  a  long  way  off, 
and  started  out  behind  my  Lady,  keeping  at 
a  cautious  distance,  that  she  might  have  no 
inkling  of  my  deep-laid  plot.  I  saw  her 
turn  into  the  pretty,  shady  path,  a  book  in 
hand,  but  not  reading  it,  her  white  hat  mov- 
ing in  and  out  among  the  trees  as  she 
tripped  along  lightly  as  a  snow-bird.  Thus 
she  led  me  on  and  on,  down  one  hill  and 
up  another,  and  so  fast  that  my  poor  old 
feet  had  a  weary  time  keeping  up  with  her 
younger  ones,  and  I  would  fain  have  stopped 
now  and  then  to  rest  and  get  my  breath, 
had  not  my  old  curiosity  urged  me  onward. 

At  length  she  came  to  where  the  road 
forked,  the  one  path  leading  to  the  city,  and 
the  other  to  the  chateau.  There  she  sat 
herself  upon  a  broken  tree-trunk  that  had 
fallen  across  the  green  turf;  not  that  she 
was  tired,  —  the  walk  was  not  a  long  one  for 
her  young  strength,  and  it  was  not  weariness 
that  was  in  her  face,  I  knew  full  well,  for  she 
was  restless  and  expectant,  ever  and  anon 
rising  and  taking  a  few  steps  to  look  up  one 


202  MY  LADY: 

path  and  down  the  other,  and  shading  her 
eyes  with  her  hand.  Then  she  would  come 
back  and  sit  down  again,  while  the  shadows 
played  upon  her  hat  and  gown,  and  the 
summer  wind  tossed  her  pretty  curls,  and 
the  gold-winged  demoiselles  hovered  about 
her  like  so  many  bright  thoughts. 

But  presently  she  caught  the  sound  of 
horses'  feet,  and  up  jumps  my  Lady,  and 
pulls  her  hat  down  over  her  face,  and  up  go 
the  roses  in  her  cheeks,  and  the  sweet  shy 
look  in  her  eyes.  In  a  moment  more  a  sin- 
gle rider  had  turned  into  the  path,  and  my 
Lady  was  walking  slowly  down  the  green 
road,  deeply  absorbed  in  the  book  which 
she  held  open  in  her  hands,  her  face  bent 
over  it,  apparently  oblivious  to  every  sound 
and  creature  round  about  her.  It  looked 
exceedingly  pretty,  and  I  was  prepared  for  a 
love-scene  then  and  there.  My  heart  shot 
in  my  throat,  and  I  held  my  breath  to  catch 
the  sound  of  their  voices. 

"  My  Lady  !  "  exclaimed  Monsieur  Lu- 
cien,  quickly  alighting  from  his  horse,  and 
coming  forward  to  meet  her ;  for  it  was  no 
other  than  he.  I  knew  it  as  soon  as  I  caught 


A  STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.          203 

sight  of  his  straight  shoulders  through  the 
trees,  and  no  other  man  in  the  country  sat 
so  tall  in  his  saddle.  "  What  good  fortune 
has  brought  you  here  again  to-day !  " 

She  looked  up  at  him  quickly,  and  the 
tell-tale  blush  on  her  cheeks  only  added 
nicely  to  her  feigned  surprise. 

"  This  is  a  favorite  walk,"  she  said,  "  and 
a  pleasant  one  to  the  chateau,  though 
somewhat  longer  than  the  way  across  the 
meadows." 

"  The  longer  the  better  for  me,  if  I  may 
walk  it  with  you,"  said  he;  for  he  was  ever 
smooth  of  tongue,  and  gentle  speeches  fell 
from  his  lips  so  naturally  that  he  might 
have  seemed  a  lover  to  any  one  speaking 
with  him. 

"  What  good  fortune  has  brought  .you 
here  again  !  "  repeated  I  to  myself,  and  "It 
is  a  favorite  walk,"  indeed  !  That  I  should 
live  to  find  myself  an  eavesdropper !  and  I 
strained  my  ears  to  hear  more.  But  my 
Lady  made  no  reply,  only  blushed  crimson 
at  his  words,  and  I  saw  that  same  strange 
light  come  into  her  eyes  which  I  had  no- 
ticed there  whenever  he  spoke  to  her  in  that 


204  MY  LADY: 

honeyed  way,  or  looked  at  her  with  that  rare 
smile  of  his. 

My  poor  dear  Maidie  !  she  did  not  know 
the  ways  of  the  world  and  of  men.  But  I 
did  ;  and  while  I  saw  her  very  heart-throb  as 
plainly  as  I  saw  their  two  young  faces  before 
me,  I  saw  too  that  Monsieur  Lucien  was  not 
one  whit  disturbed  in  his  mind  at  meeting 
her  thus,  nor  at  walking  beside  her,  while 
his  good  horse  followed  them  without  so 
much  as  being  held  by  the  bridle,  and  was 
not  even  jealous  of  their  converse. 

"  Provence  is  very  beautiful,"  he  said, 
breaking  the  short  silence.  "  I  never  knew 
how  truly  beautiful  until  I  came  to  Saint- 
Rambert,  though  I  have  heard  it  much 
praised  by  Philippe,  who  thinks  it  the  fairest 
spoj  on  earth." 

"  Philippe  is  very  fond  of  his  home.  You 
cannot  think  what  a  trial  it  was  to  him  and 
to  us  when  he  left  us  to  go  to  college," 
said  my  Lady,  walking  slowly. 

"  1  can  scarcely  wonder  at  it ;  if  I  did  not 
love  him  so  much,  I  might  almost  envy  him 
his  good  fortune,  he  has  so  much  more  than 
lands  and  wealth,  —  he  has  those  who  care 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.          205 

much  for  him.  I  am  alone  in  the  world," 
he  added  after  a  moment's  pause ;  and  I 
thought  his  tone  had  something  of  regret  in 
it.  My  Lady  glanced  up  at  him  quickly, 
her  gentle  heart  touched  in  sympathy.  It 
is  so  -easy,  so  sweet  a  thing  to  feel  for  those 
who  are  dear  to  us. 

"  But,  surely,  you  have  many  friends," 
she  said,  "  friends  who  think  dearly  of  you ; 
is  not  Philippe  such  a  one?  " 

"The  best  friend  I  have,"  he  returned 
warmly,  and  even  then  he  did  not  know  how 
truly  he  spoke,  "  and  having  such  a  friend,  I 
should  not  complain  of  my  lot.  I  have 
neither  parents  nor  kindred,  but  I  have  my 
country  and  my  Emperor,  and  they  are  all 
of  that  to  me,  and  more."  He  said  this 
earnestly ;  and  the  fire  of  his  enthusiasm  so 
lighted  up  his  face  as  he  spoke,  that  I  could 
not  gainsay  it,  he  was  very  handsome. 

It  was  then  that  I  realized  what  a  power 
that  young  Corsican  Emperor  had  over  our 
young  generation,  and  wondered  what  there 
was  that  made  them  all  go  mad  so  about 
him.  The  same  fever  was  in  Monsieur  Lu- 
cien,  and  I  saw  very  clearly  that  his  heart  and 


206  MY  LADY: 

soul  and  hopes  were  all  bound  up  in  the  one 
great  name  whose  lustre  and  magic  shall 
be  the  glory  of  France  as  long  as  France 
endures. 

My  Lady  eyed  him  curiously,  and  was 
silent.  Then  he  said,  laughing  a  little  at  his 
own  impetuous  speech,  — 

"  But,  I  forget,  it  is  treason  for  me  to 
speak  so  to  you,  —  you,  a  royalist,  perhaps 
a  Bourbon  in  ancestry  !  And  I  must  not 
expect  much  sympathy  from  you  on  this 
subject." 

My  Lady  said  :  "  My  grandfather  hated 
the  republic  of  his  day,  for  it  was  the  cause 
of  much  trouble  to  him,  and  he  lost  much 
by  it ;  and  Philippe  has  been  educated  to 
be  the  Marquis  of  Saint-Rambert  in  heart 
as  well  as  in  name.  I  am  too  ignorant  to 
have  any  wise  or  just  thoughts  on  these  mat- 
ters, but  I  am  not  so  highly  born  as  my  cou- 
sin Philippe.  My  father  was  a  Welshman, 
and  a  man  of  the  people." 

Blessed  souls  in  purgatory  !  what  was  the 
child  talking  about,  and  what  did  she  mean 
by  speaking  so  humbly  of  herself!  Mon- 
sieur Lucien  did  not  seem  to  comprehend 


A  STORY  0A  LONG  AGO.         207 

her  meaning  any  better  than  I,  for  he  looked 
puzzled  a  minute;  but  presently  his  expres- 
sion changed,  and  he  said,  with  a  wise  look 
about  the  mouth  which  my  darling  did  not 
see,  her  eyes  being  cast  down,  — 

"  It  is  no  matter  now ;  you  will  think  as 
Philippe  thinks  when  you  are  older,  and  it 
is  right  that  you  should." 

Before  my  Lady  had  time  to  say  another 
word  in  reply,  a  strange,  wild,  mocking  laugh 
broke  out  upon  the  stillness  of  the  wood, 
and  some  one  rushed  across  the  path  behind 
them,  and  disappeared  among  the  thicket. 
But  swiftly  as  it  was  done,  I  saw,  and  my 
Lady  saw,  the  thick  slinking  figure  of  Fran- 
cois, and  recognized  his  voice  in  that  great 
coarse  laughter  which  was  more  like  the  ut- 
terings  of  a  wild  animal  than  of  a  human 
being.  My  Lady  started  violently,  and 
turned  as  white  as  one  just  dead ;  and  in- 
voluntarily she  laid  her  hand  upon  Mon- 
sieur Lucien's  arm  for  protection.  I  should 
have  rushed  out  to  her  if  he  had  not  been  so 
very  kind,  taking  the  little  hand  in  his,  and 
stroking  it,  as  one  does  a  frightened  birdling. 

"What  is  it  terrifies  you  so?"  he  asked, 


208  MY  LADY: 

for  she  continued  to  tremble  even  more  than 
before.  "  It  was  but  some  country  bumpkin 
who  tried  to  startle  us  with  his  shrieking,  and 
thought  it  cunning.  Had  he  not  been  so 
quick,  and  you  so  white  and  frightened,  I 
should  have  caught  him  and  given  him  a 
good  trouncing  for  making  such  ugly  noises." 
He  made  light  of  it,  and  wondered,  no 
doubt,  at  her  sudden  fear ;  but  my  Lady 
only  said,  with  her  bright  looks  all  gone, 
"  Let  us  hasten  home,  if  you  please." 

My  very  blood  was  boiling.  The  mock- 
ing featherhead  !  Had  he  been  hiding  there 
and  listening  to  their  talk  ?  Had  he  been  fol- 
lowing my  Lady  thither  and  yon,  other  days? 
—  for  this  was  not  the  first  time  she  had  met 
Monsieur  Lucien  here ;  his  words  implied  as 
much.  What  could  be  his  purpose?  We 
had  not  set  eyes  on  him,  lo,  these  many 
months.  I  never  learned  whether  Monsieur 
le  Marquis  had  held  any  words  with  him 
after  hearing  of  his  cowardly  act ;  but  I 
thought  he  had  kept  prudently  out  of  sight ; 
and  now,  to  my  utter  amazement,  here  he 
was  hanging  about  in  secret  places,  seeking 
to  do  some  mischief,  I  had  not  the  least 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.          209 

shadow  of  doubt.  I  resolved  that  I  must 
keep  a  stricter  watch  over  my  darling,  that 
she  should  never  leave  the  house  alone  with- 
out me  following  close  at  hand  :  and  I  had 
no  compunctions  as  to  my  own  eavesdrop- 
ping it  being  done  of  good  purpose.  So, 
seeing  that  she  was  at  present  in  safe  hands,  I 
turned  into  the  wood,  and  cut  my  way  across 
it,  that  I  might  reach  our  house  in  plenty  of 
time  to  greet  them. 


1 1 


2IO 


MY  LADY: 


CHAPTER   XVI. 


OW,  my  Lady  said  never 
a  word  to  me  of  her 
meetings  with  Monsieur 
Lucien,  and  hence  noth- 
ing about  having  en- 
countered that  villanous 
Francois  in  the  wood. 
I  marvelled  not  that  she 
was  silent.  I  knew  the  hour  would  soon  come 
when  she  would  stand  in  need  of  pouring 
out  her  heart  to  me,  and  I  bided  my  time  in 
patience,  knowing  well  that  confidences  must 
not  be  forced  from  young  lips.  I  could  not 
guess  what  my  young  Marquis  thought  of  it 
all,  but  I  felt  that  matters  waxed  on  from 
bad  to  worse  for  him,  —  he  with  sighing  for 
my  Lady,  and  she  sighing  for  some  one  else. 
Things  were  in  a  pretty  state,  I  do  assure 
you,  —  for  no  one  spoke  his  mind,  fearing  to 


A   STOXY  OF  LONG  AGO.          211 

hurt  his  neighbor ;  and  where  is  the  good  of 
that,  say  I?  Men  do  these  things  for  love 
of  one  another,  and  stand  aside  to  let  their 
life's  happiness  go  by.  Heaven  bless  them 
for  it !  but  I  doubt  me  if  they  ever  reap  a 
rich  enough  reward.  So  my  dear  Monsieur 
Philippe  kept  a  tender  eye  on  our  Maidie, 
sometimes  guessing  the  truth  and  sometimes 
doubting  it ;  for  being  young,  and  therefore 
hopeful,  he  could  not  but  mistrust  his  fears 
at  times,  remembering  that  she  had  loved 
him  these  many  years,  —  as  indeed  she  had, 
fondly  as  a  brother. 

Not  long  after  the  day  of  my  discovery  in 
the  wood,  we  were  spending  an  afternoon  at 
the  chateau,  and  the  three  young  people 
were  sitting  in  the  big  open  rotunda,  the 
one  looking  to  the  west,  so  that  the  red- 
ness of  the  setting  sun  came  streaming  in 
upon  their  heads,  making  a  pretty  picture 
of  the  group.  My  Lady  was  busy  at  some 
dainty  stitchery  at  which  her  fingers  were  very 
deft,  fashioning  a  bit  of  landscape  with  the 
bluest  sky  and  the  greenest  trees  and  the 
brownest  sheep  that  ever  grazed  on  tapestry. 
Monsieur  le  Marquis  was  leaning  over  her 


212  MY  LADY: 

shoulder,  admiring,  and  exclaiming  over  her 
handiwork ;  while  Monsieur  Lucien  did  like- 
wise at  a  more  respectful  distance.  He  was 
toying  with  a  little  trinket  that  hung  from  his 
shoulder  on  a  blue  silk  cordon,  —  a  small 
round  golden  medal  with  one  bright  jewel  in 
the  centre,  so  bright,  indeed,  that  every  time 
it  caught  the  light,  it  glistened  and  sparkled 
so,  that  my  Lady  was  fain  to  wink  in  look- 
ing at  it.  It  was  not  a  thing  of  great  beauty, 
to  my  thinking,  having  no  good  saint's  head 
upon  it,  only  some  curious  letters  in  a 
tongue  I  could  not  read ;  and  yet  he  made 
much  of  it,  and  never  was  without  it  on  his 
person. 

Monsieur  Philippe  had  teased  him  many 
times  about  the  quaint  thing,  to  find  out 
how  he  came  by  it,  and  wherefore  he  treas- 
ured it.  But  Monsieur  did  never  tell  him 
anything  to  his  satisfaction,  only  smiling  and 
saying  it  had  never  belonged  to  his  mother 
or  his  grandmother,  or  any  kith  or  kin  of  his. 
Whereupon  the  young  Marquis  looked  his 
friend  straight  in  the  eye,  and  said  with 
playful  earnestness,  — 

"  Now,  I  am  certain,  Lucien,  some   fair 


A  STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.          213 

lady  gave  it  you,  —  some  lady  whose  name 
you  have  kept  from  me.  For  shame  !  to  put 
such  ill-trust  in  me  !  " 

"  Nay,  nay,  Philippe,  I  swear  no  lady  ever 
gave  it  me ;  have  I  not  told  you  so  a  hun- 
dred times?" 

Thrice  my  Lady's  color  came  and  went, 
yet  Monsieur  Philippe  did  not  see  it  as  he 
stood  behind  her  chair,  for  her  head  was 
bent  low  over  her  work,  ere  Monsieur  Lucien 
laughingly  said,  — 

"  Now,  to  prove  to  you  that  I  speak  in 
good  faith,  and  not  in  jest,  I  will  part  with 
the  trinket  and  give  it  to  my  Lady,  if  she 
will  take  it  from  me ; "  and  he  took  the 
blue  silk  cordlet  and  slipped  it  round 
Maidie's  neck  with  perfect  unconcern,  and, 
to  my  thinking,  a  shameful  want  of  emotion. 
"  Will  you  not  believe  me  now?  "  he  asked, 
turning  to  Philippe.  "  Surely  I  should  not 
part  with  it  if  it  had  left  a  lady's  hand  !  But 
if  you  are  still  curious,  ask  my  Lady  what 's 
its  history;  she  knows  as  much  of  it  as  I." 

My  young  Marquis  smiled.  "The  mys- 
tery is  deeper  than  ever,"  he  said  ;  "  but  let 
it  be  so,  I  '11  question  you  no  more  about  it, 


214  MY  LADY: 

I  '11  take  your  word,  for  you  are  a  true 
knight,  Lucien ;  "  and  he  laid  his  arm  ten- 
derly about  his  friend's  shoulders,  for  their 
love  was  very  true  and  strong. 

My  darling  appeared  mightily  pleased 
with  the  little  gift,  and  made  as  much  of  it 
as  though  it  had  been  given  her  by  a  king, 
turning  it  over  and  over  to  admire  it,  and 
letting  it  rest  on  the  broad  collar  of  her 
gown,  now  on  one  side,  now  on  the  other, 
and  looking  down  at  it  with  pretty  coquetry. 
I  fancied  I  noticed  a  certain  emotion  pass 
over  her  when  he  had  laid  the  silken  cord 
about  her  shoulders,  but  it  must  have  been 
only  one  of  my  idle  imaginings,  for  when 
she  looked  up  again  to  thank  him,  it  was 
gone.  But  I  knew  her  heart  was  beating 
very  fast  because  his  gift  was  resting  so  close 
beside  it. 

It  so  happened  that,  later  in  the  evening 
when  they  two  were  sitting  alone  together, 
my  darling  took  Monsieur  Philippe  to  task 
for  questioning  Monsieur  Dancourt  so  closely 
•  on  the  subject  of  the  medal  before  her. 
But  my  young  master  had  his  own  reasons 
for  having  brought  up  the  matter,  though 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.          215 

my  Lady  guessed  none  of  the  feelings  that 
disturbed  his  young  breast.  How  should 
she,  forsooth  !  and  he  did  not  enlighten  her, 
but  sought  instead  to  read  her  own  thoughts 
secretly  and  see  what  lay  there,  that  he 
might  not,  should  he  have  guessed  aright, 
trouble  her  first  sweet  happiness  by  any  re- 
gret of  his  own.  So  he  said,  in  his  ever 
sweet-tempered  way, — 

"  Indeed,  cousin,  I  could  not  forbear 
jesting  with  him  a  bit,  knowing  he  is  not  to 
be  hurt  sorely  on  this  point ;  for  I  verily  be- 
lieve that  in  all  his  life  he  has  never  thought 
fondly  of  any  woman.  We  have  been 
friends  these  three  years,  and  I  should  have 
had  his  confidence,  had  it  been  otherwise ; 
though,  perhaps,  I  am  not  fully  deserving 

of  it." 

« Why  should  you  not  deserve  his  confi- 
dence, pray?"  said  my  darling,  who  could 
not  bear  to  have  Philippe  underrate  his 
merits.  "  Have  you  ever  kept  aught  from 
him  ;  has  he  not  had  all  of  your  trust?" 

« Not  all,"  said  my  young  master,  very 
softly.  "  I  fear  I  have  had  a  secret  from 
him  through  the  whole  of  our  friendship; 


216  MY  LADY: 

not  that  I  would  not  trust  him,  but  that  I 
can  scarce  trust  myself  to  speak  of  it." 

"  A  secret,  Philippe  !  what  can  you  mean  ? 
What  is  it  that  you  have  kept  from  him, 
from  me,  so  long  a  time?"  cried  my  Lady, 
coming  near  to  him,  and  guessing  for  the 
first  time  by  his  face  that  he  was  in  trouble, 
and  that  his  generous  heart  had  withheld  it 
in  concealment.  "  Can  you  not  speak  of  it 
to  me?  Can  I  do  nothing  to  help  you?  " 

"I  fear  not,"  said  the  young  Marquis, and 
he  looked  at  her  in  silence  for  a  moment. 
But  I  from  my  corner,  where  I  sat  knitting 
and  dreaming,  saw  that  his  lip  trembled. 

"  Oh,  but  perhaps  I  may,  Philippe,  only 
let  me  know  what  it  is.  How  should  we 
have  any  secrets  from  each  other?  Are  we 
not  brother  and  sister,  and  the  truest  and 
dearest  of  friends?" 

"  The  dearest  and  best  of  friends,  ever  !  " 
he  said. 

"  Then  I  must  know  what  it  is  that  trou- 
bles you,  else  I  shall  think  you  do  not  love 
me  any  more ;  "  and  my  Lady  clung  to  him, 
innocent  of  the  pain  her  every  kind  word 
caused  him. 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.          2l^ 

He  drew  her  arm  through  his,  and  speak- 
ing earnestly,  he  said:  "Listen,  cousin 
dear,  and  I  will  tell  you  since  you  wish  it, 
for  you  can  surely  say  whether  there  is 
any  hope  for  me.  Ever  since  I  went  away 
from  Provence,  three  years  ago,  I  have 
loved  some  one  very  dearly,  with  the  love 
that  comes  to  man  for  woman.  I  have 
carried  her  in  my  thoughts  every  hour  of 
the  day,  and  in  my  hours  of  unconscious- 
ness her  image  has  not  left  me.  I  would 
have  given  my  all  to  win  her  love,  but  I 
never  shall,  and  perhaps  it  is  better  so. 
I  know  that  she  is  far  too  good  and  too 
beautiful  to  belong  to  me." 

"  Hush,  hush,  Philippe,  my  brother,  my 
brave,  dear  boy ! "  said  my  Lady,  laying 
her  fingers  gently  on  his  lips,  her  heart  go- 
ing out  to  him  in  deepest  sympathy ;  "  speak 
not  unkindly  of  yourself.  I  am  sure  that 
she  must  love  you ;  how  can  she  do  other- 
wise, if  she  knows  you,  —  knows  how  good, 
how  noble  you  are  ?  Oh,  let  me  go  to.  her 
and  tell  her  all  you  have  been  to  us,  and 
make  her  love  you  !  It  is  not  right  that 
you  should  be  unhappy,  and  you  are  brave 


2i8  MY  LADY: 

and  beautiful  enough  for  any  woman  on 
earth." 

Ah,  me !  that  my  darling,  in  all  her 
innocent  unconsciousness,  should  be  the 
one  to  wound  him !  She  laid  her  head 
on  his  arm,  in  her  affectionate,  sisterly  way, 
and  held  him  close,  while  her  well-meant 
and  kindly  words  of  sympathy  entered  into 
his  heart  like  a  shaft,  for  with  them  he 
saw  his  last  hope  vanish,  and  he  knew  from 
that  moment  that  she  had  not  understood. 
It  was  better  so.  He  felt  that  she  spoke 
to  him  from  the  depths  of  her  loving,  pity- 
ing soul,  because  her  own  heart  was  full 
of  that  same  doubting,  fearful  love  —  for 
another.  He  looked  away  from  her,  and 
his  face  and  lips  were  very  white,  so  that 
my  heart  sickened  at  sight  of  him,  and 
the  tears  rolled  from  my  eyes  till  I  could 
see  nothing  more  for  a  while.  But  I  knew 
that  a  mighty  struggle  went  on  within  him 
during  those  few  brief  seconds,  for  when 
he  turned  round  and  spoke  to  her  again, 
his  face  was  very  calm  and  his  voice  quite 
steady. 

"We  will  not  speak  of  it  again,  Maidie 


Play  fair,  cousin  mine,  have  you  no  secret  to  tell  me?1 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.          221 

dear,  but  I  will  surely  tell  you  when  all  is 
well  with  me  once  more,"  he  said.  "And 
now,  Maidie,"  he  spoke  very  gently,  "play 
fair,  cousin  mine,  have  you  no  secret  to 
tell  me?  I  have  told  you  the  only  one 
I  have  ever  kept  from  you  in  my  life." 

My  darling  began  to  tremble,  and  hid- 
ing her  face  against  him,  she  fell  to  weep- 
ing. He  soothed  her  very  tenderly,  setting 
aside  his  own  grief,  and  thinking  only  of 
her  happiness.  A  man  is  surely  the  best 
of  comforters,  after  all,  if  he  is  kindly- 
hearted  as  is  my  dear  young  master,  and 
the  strongest,  most  helpful  of  friends  in 
moments  like  these ;  and  happy  are  they 
that  have  such  a  friend  in  the  day  of  their 
need  ! 

"  I  thought  I  had  guessed  something  of 
it,"  he  said,  "  and  yet  I  was  not  sure, 
thinking  perhaps  I  imagined  much,  because 
my  own  mind  dwelt  much  on  such  things." 

"You  have  guessed  aright,"  said  my 
Lady. 

"  It  is  Lucien,  is  it  not,  Maidie  ?  " 

"  It  is  Lucien,"  she  said  very  low,  as  a 
child  at  confession;  and  they  remained  a 


222  MY  LADY: 

long  time  silent,  in  the   sweet  communion 
of  souls  that  feel  for  one  another. 

I  do  not  know  how  silent  or  how  dismal 
an  evening  we  should  have  spent  thus,  if 
Master  Lion  had  not  happened  on  the 
scene  presently,  announcing  himself  with  no 
more  ceremony  than  his  usual  deep  sono- 
rous bark,  which  sounded  unusually  deep 
and  startling  in  the  stillness  of  the  dim 
twilight.  I  gave  a  jump,  and  asked  him 
what  he  meant  by  waking  folk  from  a  sound 
nap  with  such  unseemly  sounds.  But  the 
only  response  he  made  was  to  stretch 
himself  his  whole  length  on  the  floor,  rest- 
ing his  nose  between  his  two  front  paws, 
and  eying  me  from  the  corner  of  his  big 
brown  eyes  with  the  most  insolent  uncon- 
cern. When  the  candles  were  lighted,  I 
told  my  two  good  children  what  a  strange 
dream  I  had  had,  as  I  sat  dozing  in  my 
chair,  and  my  darling  was  fain  to  pick  up 
many  stitches  that  had  fallen  in  my  knitting, 
which  was  a  certain  proof  that  I  had  "  lost 
myself"  awhile. 


A  STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.          223 


CHAPTER  XVII. 


OW,  I  had  guessed  very 
nearly  the  substance  of 
all  I  heard  said  betwixt 
my  young  master  and  my 
darling,  as  they  sat  there 
together  in  the  deepen- 
ing twilight,  opening  their 
hearts  to  each  other ;    and  I  knew  it  for  a 
certainty  when  I  crept  to  my  Lady's  bed- 
side, that  night,  to  see  that  all  was  well  with 
her,   and    smooth   down   her   coverlet,   and 
saw  how,  as  she  lay  there  sleeping,  fair  and 
white    as  a  lily,    her  bright   hair  streaming 
across  the   pillow  like  a  golden  cloud,  she 
held  the  little   medal  pressed  close  against 
her  breast.     Ah  me  !  hers  was  a  desperate 
love,  I  feared  me,  —  the  kind  that  eats  out 
people's    hearts    and    brings    much    sorrow 
with  it.     It  was  so  new,  so   strange  to  her, 


224  MY  LADY: 

and  so  sweet  for  that  very  reason.  I  could 
not  but  tremble  and  weep  a  bit,  at  what, 
Heaven  only  knows  !  save  that  I  knew  love 
and  life  to  be  full  of  trouble,  and  I  loved 
her  so  well  that  I  would  stand  between 
her  and  all  unhappiness. 

I  thought  of  ray  dear  Philippe's  love 
for  her,  —  how  true,  how  deep,  how  noble 
it  was,  how  free  from  every  thought  of 
self.  He  would  give  her  up  to  his  friend 
and  find  some  comfort  in  so  doing,  be- 
cause he  loved  them  both ;  and  they  would 
never  quite  understand  the  greatness  of  his 
sacrifice,  nor  the  full  depth  and  breadth 
of  his  generous  soul !  And  so  the  world 
goes,  thought  I,  and  the  good  deeds  lie 
scattered  here  and  there  in  hidden  places, 
and  only  a  few  eyes  ever  find  them  out. 
But  mine  did  see  all  that  he  thought  to 
hide  from  every  living  being,  and  the  angels 
above  saw,  and  blessed  him  for  it ! 

Well,  the  summer  days  followed  one 
another  in  quick  succession.  It  was  the 
busiest  and  liveliest  summer  I  had  ever 
spent  in  Provence.  For  all  this  romancing 
and  criss-cross  love-making  was  enough 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.          225 

to  turn  a  body's  head,  especially  when  that 
body's  head  is  like  unto  a  weather-cock 
when  the  winds  of  Cupid  blow.  I  noticed 
that  Monsieur  Lucien  was  the  only  cool- 
headed  one  amongst  us,  the  only  one  who 
did  not  seem  to  be  disturbed  by  the  state 
of  disquiet  that  reigned  in  our  midst.  His 
journeyings  to  the  city  grew  more  frequent, 
and  he  often  returned  thence  in  high  spirits, 
and  waxed  very  eloquent  and  excited,  but 
ever  on  the  same  theme,  —  his  going  off  to 
Egypt.  He  did  actually  seem  to  look  for- 
ward to  it  with  pleasure ;  and  I  marvelled 
at  his  bad  taste  in  the  choice  of  countries. 
For  though  I  knew  little  of  that  far-away 
place  save  what  I  had  read  of  it  in  the  Old 
Testament,  I  felt  in  my  bones  that  it  was 
a  God- forsaken  land,  and  that  men  went 
thither  for  no  good  purpose.  Be  that  as 
it  may,  he  would  think  and  would  talk  of 
nothing  else,  and  regularly  as  the  sun,  his 
hopes  rose  of  getting  his  papers  summon- 
ing him  to  be  off. 

Another    thing   I    noticed   was    that    my 
Lady   went    very    often    now    to   visit    old 
Toinette,  and  that  she  stayed  there  longer 
'5 


226  MY  LADY: 

than  it  takes  time  to  guess  what  was  her 
real  purpose  in  so  doing.  Once  I  followed 
her  there,  for  I  bethought  me  of  being  a 
little  jealous  of  her  making  too  great  a  con- 
fidante of  the  old  woman,  though  I  knew 
she  went  not  so  much  to  talk  herself 
as  to  hear  the  witch's  favorable  prognos- 
tics. I  surprised  them  nicely.  When  I  en- 
tered the  hut,  there,  if  you  please,  sat  my 
Lady,  close  beside  the  old  dame,  drinking 
in  every  word  she  uttered  as  though  it  had 
been  gospel  truth ;  while  Mere  Toinette  held 
both  the  small  white  hands  in  her  withered 
ones,  trying  to  fathom  some  great  mystery 
that  lay  upon  their  sott  dimpled  palms. 

"  Highty  tighty,  indeed  !  "  I  cried.  "And 
what  are  you  saying,  Mere  Toinette,  to 
make  my  Lady  look  so  like  a  poppy?"  for 
she  had  blushed  rosy-red  at  sight  of  me. 

"  Hey,  Mistress  Anne,  my  Lady  and  I 
were  just  conferring  upon  some  little  pri- 
vate matters,"  mumbled  the  old  witch,  with 
a  genuine  witchlike  look  at  me  from  her 
beady  eyes. 

"Now,  you  know  as  well  as  I  do,  that 
it 's  all  arrant  nonsense,"  said  I,  with  bold 


Consulting  Mere  Toinette  on  very  Private  Matters. 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.          229 

incredulity,  "and  you  should  not  be  put- 
ting sentimental  rubbish  into  young  folk's 
heads." 

"  I  don't  put  it  into  their  heads,  bless 
you  !  It 's  themselves  that  come  and  get  all 
my  art  out  of  me  ;  but  they  're  welcome  to 
it,  they  are,  when  they're  as  sweet  and 
pretty  as  my  Lady." 

"And  what  does  your  art  say  of  my 
Lady's  fortunes?"  I  asked,  relenting  a  bit, 
and  curious  to  hear  what  her  prophecies 
might  be. 

But  here  she  shook  her  head  mysteriously, 
as  if  she  were  not  quite  clear  herself  on 
this  point.  She  had  always  said,  and  she 
still  maintained,  that  my  Lady  would  be 
happy  in  wedlock;  yet  suddenly  she  had 
discovered  that  her  line  of  love  was  not 
quite  smooth,  and  she  feared  her  time  of 
courtship  would  be  a  stormy  one. 

"  Stuff  and  foolery,  every  word  of  it !  " 
I  cried.  "  It 's  a  part  of  your  wisdom  to  mix 
matters  up  as  much  as  you  are  able,  so 
as  to  make  them  seem  a  bit  more  spicy; 
but  I  've  no  faith  in  you,  Mere  Toinette, 
and  no  more  has  my  Lady." 


230  MY  LADY: 

The  old  woman  laughed,  and  left  off 
talking  witchcraft,  but  gave  us  instead  some 
fine  red  apples,  a  basketful  of  which  had 
just  been  brought  her,  as  a  token  of  grati- 
tude, by  a  happy  pair  who  had  consulted 
her  in  their  time  of  loving,  and  had  come 
out  well  satisfied. 

Now,  for  all  I  had  not  one  whit  of  be- 
lief in  Mere  Toinette's  twaddle,  yet  her 
silly  words  about  my  darling  troubled  me 
more  than  I  liked  to  confess  even  to  my- 
self. And  I  had  naught  of  superstition  in 
my  nature,  either ;  it  being  only  the  young 
and  the  great  that  have  it.  I  never  knew 
what  else  she  had  told  the  child  before 
my  coming ;  but  something  she  must  have 
said  that  disturbed  her,  and  led  her  to  do 
the  strange  things  she  did  soon  after. 

As  we  walked  home  together,  my  darling 
spoke  very  little,  but  she  nestled  close  to  me 
and  clung  to  my  arm,  like  a  child  who 
has  something  to  confide,  and  yet  not 
daring.  I  did  not  urge  her,  knowing  too 
well  that  the  best  way  to  make  folk  tell  a 
secret  is  by  seeming  to  care  not  one  fig 
about  the  matter.  Still  the  time  was  not 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.          231 

yet  come  for  her  to  tell  me  everything, 
and  so  we  walked  on  in  silence  till  we 
had  reached  our  own  gate.  My  Lady  would 
not  come  in,  but  remained  a  long  time  out 
of  doors,  busy  fastening  up  a  creeping  vine 
under  my  favorite  window  (the  one  looking 
into  her  little  garden),  which  the  last  rain- 
fall had  made  sad  havoc  with. 

I  had  quite  forgotten  what  she  was  at, 
till  I  heard  her  voice  responding  a  good- 
day  to  some  traveller  on  the  road ;  and 
immediately  after,  Monsieur  Lucien  was 
leaning  over  the  gate,  saying  in  unusually 
excited  tones  for  him,  — 

"  I  have  some  great  news,  and  I  was 
hastening  to  tell  Philippe  of  them.  Were 
you  not  going  too  to  the  chateau?"  he 
asked,  for  she  had  on  her  hat  still,  and  her 
bright  parasol  lay  across  the  steps. 

"  I  was  but  this  moment  going  to  the 
chateau,"  she  returned. 

"Then  we  may  walk  together,  may  we 
not?"  he  said,  and  opened  the  gate  for 
her  to  pass. 

"  If  the  news  bear  waiting  till  we  have 
walked  the  woodland  road,"  replied  my 


232  MY  LADY: 

Lady  "I  have  a  fancy  for   taking  that  way 
to-day." 

"Any  way  will  be  but  too  short,"  said  he, 
stooping  to  pick  up  her  kerchief,  which  fell 
from  her  nervous  fingers. 

I  watched  them  as  they  walked  off  to- 
gether, —  he  so  tall  and  of  such  princely  bear- 
ing, she  so  fair  and  delicate  in  contrast,  — 
and  I  could  not  but  think  how  very  well 
they  looked  one  beside  the  other.  Then 
my  old  desire  seized  me,  to  see  and  hear 
all  that  was  going  on.  I  had  fallen  into 
such  bad  habits  of  late !  But  what  would 
you  have  me  do,  pray?  What  should  you 
have  done  in  my  stead?  I  felt  this  to  be 
an  opportunity.  I  knew  that  something 
would  happen  during  that  walk ;  it  came 
over  me  like  a  presentiment.  And  how 
could  I  wait  to  know  the  result  of  it  till 
my  darling  came  back,  if  I  did  not  follow 
after  them  and  learn  for  myself!  So  I 
waited  till  they  had  passed  the  cypress- 
trees,  which  being  high  and  close  together 
formed  a  dense  hedge,  propitious  to  my 
errand ;  and  I  caught  up  with  them  just 
in  time  to  hear  my  Lady  say, — 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.          233 

"  Why  should  you  not  tell  me  the  news 
first?"  and  her  lip  trembled,  and  a  wild 
expectancy  was  in  her  eyes,  as  in  one  who 
fears  a  blow  and  cannot  turn  away  from  it. 

"  I  know  no  reason,  in  truth,  why  I  should 
not,"  he  said,  as  if  he  thought  it  not  of 
the  least  consequence  to  her.  "  I  have  just 
received  my  commands  to  join  the  im- 
perial army,"  he  said  quite  joyfully,  "and 
to-night  I  must  be  at  Avignon,  whence  my 
regiment  leaves  for  Marseilles.  The  fleet 
is  in  readiness,  and  we  have  only  to  em- 
bark. If  wind  and  fortune  are  fair  with 
us,  we  shall  meet  the  English  at  Alexandria 
in  less  than  a  month,  and  my  Emperor 
will  be  the  master  of  the  Nile  !  " 

Now,  he  talked  on  after  this  fashion  for 
a  good  bit,  just  like  a  history  book ;  and 
be  it  far  from  me  to  call  to  mind  all  he 
said,  for  I  heard  not  a  word  more  as  soon 
as  I  caught  sight  of  my  darling's  face.  She 
grew  as  colorless  as  if  her  very  life  were 
gone  from  her.  Her  little  hand  clinched 
on  the  parasol,  and  I  could  almost  feel 
that  it  was  cold.  Ah  me  !  he  did  not  see 
it,  —  no,  for  he  was  looking  off  into  the 


234  MY  LADY: 

blazing  glory  of  his  future,  and  with  no 
more  thought  of  love  in  his  pate  than  I  had 
of  warfare  in  mine. 

But  presently,  when  she  could  hear  no 
more,  she  uttered  a  low  cry,  and  her  hand 
went  to  her  heart,  and  she  was  nigh  to 
swooning ;  when,  turning  suddenly,  he  caught 
her,  and  his  face  was  like  a  book  of  revela- 
tions for  astonishment  and  confusion. 

"What  is  it?"  he  cried  in  alarm;  "are 
you  not  well  ? "  and  he  touched  her  fore- 
head ever  so  lightly  with  his  hand.  In  a 
moment  the  blood  came  rushing  back  to 
her  cheeks  and  temples ;  her  eyes  dark- 
ened, and  I  thought  she  had  gone  mad, 
for  she  threw  herself  on  the  ground  at  his 
feet,  crying  aloud,  — 

"  You  are  going  away  from  me !  Oh, 
take  me  with  you  ;  let  me  follow  you  any- 
where, everywhere ! "  and  she  wrung  her 
hands  in  very  agony  of  soul. 

Then,  like  a  burst  of  lightning,  the  truth 
flashed  upon  him,  and  he  in  turn  stood  white 
and  stupefied,  and  I  could  see  that  his  heart 
was  deeply  grieved.  Such  a  man  as  he  I  had 
never  seen  in  all  my  long  life,  —  so  much 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.          235 

a  man  in  strength  of  mind  and  purpose ;  so 
true  and  loyal  a  friend,  —  a  friend  whom  one 
might  have  and  keep  a  lifetime,  with  sym- 
pathy enough  and  gentleness  of  nature  to  be 
moved  to  tears  by  others'  griefs,  and  yet  in- 
vulnerable of  heart !  He  was  a  mystery,  a 
very  paradox  of  nature.  I  could  not,  for  the 
life  of  me,  see  why  he  should  not  have  learned 
to  love  her  dearly ;  there  was  no  one  so  fair 
as  she,  methought,  no  woman  who  would  be 
more  true  and  tender.  Perhaps,  said  I  to 
myself,  there  is  some  one  else ;  but  no,  he 
did  not  look  the  man  to  fall  in  love  with 
more  than  one  woman,  and  if  my  old  eyes 
served  me  right,  he  had  not  seen  her  to 
know  her  yet.  Those  lustrous  eyes  of  his, 
though  they  were  bright,  had  never  been  so 
with  aught  but  pride  and  mayhap  daring,  — 
I  could  not  think  so  well  of  him  just  at  that 
moment,  —  and  I  knew  that  stern  mouth  had 
never  breathed  of  love  to  any  woman,  else 
there  had  been  softer  lines  about  it. 

Now,  when  he  saw  what  he  had  done,  — 
all  unwittingly,  to  be  sure,  but  the  harm  was 
done  nevertheless,  —  he  raised  her  to  him, 
and  sought  to  comfort  her  and  to  be  kind, 


236  MY  LADY: 

though  not  so  kind  as  I  should  have  been, 
had  I  been  a  man  in  his  place. 

"  Sit  down  beside  me,"  he  said,  —  and  his 
voice  was  very  soft  and  gentle,  but  not  lover- 
like,  —  "  sit,  dear  Maidie,  and  I  will  tell  you 
what  is  in  my  heart  for  you,  and  why  I  can- 
not take  you  with  me  when  I  go ;  "  and  he 
took  her  little  hand,  her  little  trembling 
hand,  in  his,  and  spoke  quite  tenderly  but 
without  passion,  as  though  he  had  been  talk- 
ing to  an  unruly  child. 

"  You  do  not  care  for  me  ! "  she  said, 
with  a  heart-breaking  sob,  and  covered  her 
face  with  her  hand. 

"  Indeed,  I  care  for  you  a  great  deal,  a 
very  great  deal ;  but  perhaps  not  in  the  way 
you  would  have  me  do.  The  love  I  bear 
you  is  the  love  I  should  have  given  to  a  dear 
sister,  had  I  had  one.  I  have  never  known 
or  thought  of  any  other  love.  But  let  me 
be  your  friend,  your  most  true  friend, 
forever." 

His  words  seemed  to  have  no  meaning 
now  for  her.  She  sat  like  one  dazed,  her 
eyes  quite  dry,  her  cheeks  and  lips  burning 
with  the  fire  that  had  been  in  her.  He 


A  STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.          237 

spoke  for  a  long  time,  and  I  could  see  that 
he  was  telling  her  wise  and  reasonable  things, 
which  showed  how  ill-acquainted  he  really 
was  with  young  love  and  its  mad  impulses. 
But  she  heard  him  not ;  yet  she  grew  calm 
and  silent  after  a  few  moments  had  passed. 

And  I,  behind  my  green  hedge-screen, 
saw  it  all,  and  did  not  dare  cry  out.  Ah, 
my  poor,  poor  Maidie  !  how  I  did  long  to 
fold  her  in  my  arms  and  comfort  her,  though 
I  knew  too  well  that  her  grief  just  then  was 
comfortless,  —  that  tender,  yearning  creature, 
who  had  never  known  a  sorrow,  and  who 
needed  naught  but  love  to  make  her  happy ! 
It  was  a  sorry  blow,  and  I  knew  her  young 
spirit  would  be  crushed  by  it,  and  would  feel 
the  sting  of  it  long  after. 

"  And  now,"  he  said  at  length,  "  you  will 
let  me  take  you  back  to  the  farm ;  and  you 
will  try  to  forget  this  day,  and  to  forgive  me 
for  aught  of  pain  I  may  have  caused  you, 
dear  Maidie?  " 

"I  will  try  to  forget  this  day,"  she  said, 
quite  humbly.  "  Pray  let  me  go  alone ;  " 
and  she  looked  at  him  once,  and  walked 
slowly  away.  He  stood  and  watched  her 


238  MY  LADY: 

long  and  thoughtfully,  till  her  slender  white 
figure  was  but  a  dot  in  the  shady  green  path 
beyond,  with  I  know  not  what  expression 
of  despairing  wretchedness  on  his  own 
countenance. 


He  stood  and  watched  her  long  and  thoughtfully." 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.          241 


CHAPTER   XVIII. 


HE  did  not  return 
home  immediately. 
The  very  thought  of 
seeing  her  every-day 
surroundings  or  of 
meeting  any  one  oppressed  her,  I  knew. 
Ere  she  had  regained  the  end  of  the  cy- 
press hedge,  Master  Lion  ran  out  to  meet 
her,  at  first  joyfully,  as  was  his  wont,  but, 
very  soon  divining  his  young  mistress's  great 
trouble,  he  showed  himself  full  of  sympathy. 
Now,  just  at  this  moment,  there  was  no 
one  who  could  have  given  my  darling  better 
comfort  than  this  dumb,  loving  creature,  who 
understood  her  every  thought  without  any 
need  of  words,  and  whose  mute  caresses 
were  more  soothing  to  her  than  human 
hands,  because  with  him  her  secret  was  her 
secret  still,  and  he  sought  not  to  read  it. 


242  MY  LADY: 

As  soon  as  he  came  up  to  her,  and  laid 
his  tall  head  against  her  hand,  and  looked  at 
her  in  that  tender  beseeching  way  which 
only  dogs  have,  she  put  both  her  arms  about 
his  shaggy  neck,  and  laid  her  head  against 
his,  and  the  silent  tears  fell  without  restraint. 
If  ever  I  did  hear  a  dog  cry,  sure  it  was  our 
good  old  Master  Lion  at  that  moment. 
They  entered  together  a  little  way  into  the 
deep  of  the  wood,  and  my  Lady  sat  on  the 
same  broken  log  where  she  had  sat  a  few 
short  weeks  agone,  when  her  love  was  new 
and  sweet  upon  her,  to  await  his  coming. 
Ah,  how  dull  was  the  wing  of  the  gauzy 
demoiselles  now;  how  sickening  the  scent 
of  the  wood-flowers,  how  suffocating  the 
breath  of  that  summer  day,  now  when  her 
dream  was  fled  ! 

"You  do  not'  know,  my  good  dog,  you 
cannot  know  !  "  she  repeated,  rocking  her- 
self to  and  fro,  still  holding  the  creature's 
neck  close  to  her  breast.  But  he  knew  very 
well  that  she  was  heart-sore,  and  that  was 
enough  for  him ;  he  suffered  with  her  as 
really  as  though  the  shaft  had  been  in  his  own 
heart.  He  laid  his  good  head  in  her  lap, 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.  243 

and  licked  her  hand,  and  put  his  cold  muz- 
zle to  her  white  face,  showing  his  great  ten- 
derness in  a  hundred  unspeakable  ways. 

They  remained  there  together  a  long 
time ;  and  my  Lady  grew  calmer,  for  when 
she  returned  to  me,  there  was  no  trace  of 
tears  upon  her  face.  As  soon  as  I  heard 
the  clicking  of  the  gate,  for  I  had  preceded 
her  by  a  good  half- hour,  I  went  to  the  door 
to  meet  her.  I  could  not  bear  that  she 
should  come  in  and  find  herself  alone, 
though  knowing  that  young  people  take  a 
cruel  pleasure  in  brooding  over  a  new-born 
sorrow.  I  took  her  in  my  arms,  and  held 
her  there  a  minute,  without  saying  any  words, 
and  she  rested  contented. 

"  My  heart's  love  !  "  I  cried,  when  I  could 
stand  it  no  more,  "that  I  should  see  you 
suffer  !  " 

She  kissed  the  edge  of  my  cap,  her  eyes 
being  bedimmed  with  a  new  rush  of  tears, 
and  said,  "  Dearest,  I  will  tell  you  all  some- 
time, sometime,  but  not  now  ;  "  and  she  went 
up  to  her  little  room,  and  shut  out  all  the 
light  of  day,  and  remained  there  alone  uptjl 
sundown, 


244  MY  LADY: 

I  spent  some  weary  hours,  as  you  may 
well  suppose,  the  rest  of  that  wretched 
afternoon,  and  I  could  make  a  book  of  the 
thoughts  that  passed  through  my  troubled 
brain  during  that  time ;  but  what  matter 
the  thoughts  we  have  when  they  only  brew 
and  brew  in  our  heads,  and  accomplish 
nothing?  Late  in  the  afternoon,  my  young 
master  himself  came  over  to  say  that  his 
friend  would  leave  the  chateau  that  even- 
ing at  eight  o'clock,  and  brought  his  re- 
gretful farewells  to  us.  I  never  knew  what 
passed  between  the  two,  after  Monsieur 
Dancourt  left  my  darling  and  returned  to 
the  chateau,  or  how  much  he  told  of  what 
had  happened.  I  fancied  they  spoke  little 
of  it,  for  Monsieur  Lucien  was  a  man  of 
few  words;  but  I  learned  afterwards  from 
Madame,  that  they  had  parted  in  friend- 
ship, but  sorrowfully,  so  that  Monsieur  le 
Marquis  could  not  bear  to  ride  with  him 
to  the  gates  of  Avignon. 

Now,  as  evening  drew  on  apace,  for  our 
autumn  twilights  are  of  but  a  minute's  last- 
ing, I  heard  my  darling  walking  to  and 
fro  overhead,  every  now  and  then  going 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.          245 

to  the  window  to  push  the  shutter  open 
and  look  out  upon  the  night.  I  hearkened 
to  every  sound  she  made,  for  I  was  anxious 
of  what  she  might  do  in  her  present  mood, 
knowing  so  well  her  excitable  nature.  She 
must  have  heard  Monsieur  Philippe's  words 
to  me,  as  he  stood  only  a  moment  at  the 
gateway,  and  her  window  was  just  above ; 
I  could  see  no  other  way  for  her  guessing  the 
exact  time  of  Monsieur  Lucien's  departure. 
Albeit  a  few  minutes  before  the  clock 
struck  eight,  she  came  down  the  stairs  very 
quietly,  wrapped  up  head  and  all  in  a 
dark  mantle,  and  slipped  out  into  the 
garden.  Then  she  called  Master  Lion  -in 
a  low  voice,  and  whispered  a  few  words 
in  his  ear,  and  they  started  off  together  in 
the  direction  of  the  little  wooded  bridle- 
path leading  from  the  chateau  to  Avignon. 
In  another  minute  I  was  after  them.  She 
is  going  to  stop  him,  I  thought,  or  perhaps 
only  to  look  upon  him  once  again,  ere  he 
leaves  her  forever ;  so  frenzied  is  the  heart 
of  woman  in  its  passion,  that  it  loves  to 
dwell  upon  the  face  and  form  that  is  dear, 
even  though  the  sight  of  that  face  burns 
its  way  into  her  heart. 


246  MY  LADY; 

The  wood  was  very  still.  The  moon  was 
just  rising  above  the  tree-tops,  and  every 
shadow  was  the  deeper  for  its  brightness. 
I  followed  them  for  a  full  quarter- hour,  with 
no  other  sound  breaking  the  deep  silence 
but  the  crushing  of  the  first  few  fallen 
leaves  beneath  my  feet,  the  snapping  of 
a  dry  twig  here  and  there,  and  the  loud 
beating  of  my  own  heart,  which  seemed  to 
me  so  boisterous  that  I  thought  the  thump- 
ing of  it  would  surely  wake  the  sleeping 
birds.  It  was  a  fearful  thing,  this  secret 
night-watch,  for  one  who  had  never  been 
o'er-brave  when  it  came  to  being  in  dark 
places ;  yet  there  was  my  darling  going  on 
and  on  before  me,  stark  mad,  I  thought, 
but  yet  daring  to  venture  out  alone  in  this 
grewsome  place,  with  no  fear  of  heart, 
only  to  look  once  upon  the  face  of  the 
man  she  loved. 

At  the  place  where  the  road  turned  and 
led  onward  to  the  city,  the  path  broadened 
somewhat,  and  the  trees  parted,  so  that 
the  white  moonlight  fell  full  upon  the 
grass,  and  every  blade  and  leaf  and  branch 
glistened  like  silver  under  it;  but  all  be- 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.          247 

yond  was  black.  My  Lady  and  the  dog 
stopped  just  before  they  reached  this  spot, 
well  shaded  by  the  surrounding  thicket  and 
yet  at  arm's  length  from  the  open  way. 
There  they  crouched  themselves  in  a  quiet 
heap  and  I  behind  them,  all  in  breathless 
and  fearful  expectation.  Whatever  happens, 
I  thought,  we  are  three,  and  Master  Lion 
is  very  strong  and  full  of  sense.  So  we 
waited  there  what  seemed  to  me  an  endless 
time,  though  it  was  really  but  a  few  min- 
utes. Once  or  twice  a  soft  wind  swayed  the 
branches  of  the  trees  overhead,  and  the 
leaves  rustled  gently  as  if  whispering  some 
secret  to  one  another,  and  the  birds  twittered 
in  their  nests  at  the  disturbance,  while  from 
time  to  time  a  distant  owl  poured  out  its 
dismal  note  on  the  night  stillness. 

Presently  another  sound  was  heard  unlike 
any  of  the  sounds  of  nature  going  to  rest. 
A  man's  stealthy  foot-fall,  not  a  horse's 
tramp,  and  the  muffled  clanking  of  steel. 
A  short  thick  figure  crossed  the  moonlit 
patch  in  the  road,  and  disappeared  in  the 
opposite  thicket,  and  then  all  was  quiet 
again.  But  in  that  brief  second  my  Lady, 


LADY: 

Master  Lion,  and  I  saw  the  face  of  that 
villain  Francois,  though  his  hat  was  pulled 
down  far  over  his  eyes,  and  there  was  a 
weapon  unsheathed  in  his  hand.  The  dog 
almost  gave  a  leap  after  him  ;  but  my  darling 
held  him  back,  and  whispered  very  low 
in  his  ear,  "Good  dog,  is  it  he?"  and  the 
dog  seemed  to  answer  that  it  was.  "  Lie 
very  still,  Master  Lion,"  she  murmured,  and 
another  interminable  second  went  by. 

As  soon  as  I  realized  who  it  was  that 
lay  hidden  across  the  way  beyond  us,  I 
felt  that  some  unexpected  evil  was  at  hand. 
What  was  his  purpose  there,  in  the  dark 
of  night,  with  weapons  about  him?  Who 
was  it  he  lay  in  wait  for  upon  the  chateau 
road,  but  those  who,  he  knew,  would  travel 
thence  ?  —  he  the  ingrate,  who  had  for  years 
received  the  bounty  of  those  whose  wrongs 
he  meditated  !  Was  it  his  jealousy?  He  had 
been  on  the  watch,  prowling  about,  I  knew 
it,  ever  since  I  had  spied  him,  that  first  day, 
here  in  this  wood.  How  much  did  he  know 
of  what  had  passed  between  Monsieur  and 
my  Lady?  Or  was  it  his  envy  of  Monsieur 
Lucien's  friendship  with  my  young  master, 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.          249 

whose  friendship  he  had  so  outraged?  Who 
was  it  he  meant  to  kill?  I  thanked  Heaven 
that  Master  Lion  was  nigh  to  protect  us ; 
if  he  had  not  been,  I  think  I  had  died  of 
fright,  though  anger  doth  often  brace  up 
folk,  they  say,  and,  despite  my  terror,  I 
was  full  of  wrath. 

Now,  ere  I  had  well  thought  out  all  this, 
the  faintest  sound  of  a  horse's  hoofs  fell 
upon  our  ears,  and  soon  a  rider  was  descend- 
ing the  narrow  path.  My  Lady  moved 
nearer  the  edge  of  her  hiding-place,  and 
I  could  almost  hear  her  panting,  for  I 
fancied  what  her  thoughts  might  be,  be- 
lieving herself  alone  with  that  villain  scarce 
a  yard  off.  The  horseman  drew  nearer  and 
nearer,  coming  almost  noiselessly,  for  the 
grass  was  thick  and  formed  a  soft,  moist 
carpet.  Before  I  knew  it  or  had  time  to 
cry  out,  he  was  at  the  turning,  and  Francois 
had  leaped  from  the  wood  and  caught  the 
horse  by  the  bridle,  at  the  same  time  raising 
his  sword.  Monsieur  Lucien  cried,  "  Halt ! ! 
and  drew  his  own  dagger  from  his  belt. 
There  was  a  flashing  of  steel  in  the  moon- 
light !  Quick  as  lightning  itself,  wild  as  a 


250  MY  LADY: 

panther,  my  darling  sprang  from  her  hiding- 
place,  flinging  herself  between  them  only 
in  time  to  receive  the  sharp  edge  of  her 
beloved's  steel  on  her  own  white  cheek  ! 

At  the  same  instant  Master  Lion  had 
bounded  furiously  upon  Francois,  and  the 
two  lay  rolling  and  struggling  upon  the 
green  turf,  till  the  dog,  being  the  stronger, 
dragged  him  along  to  where  the  hill-slope 
was  very  steep,  and  in  the  tussling  got  him 
well  over  the  edge,  so  that  he  tumbled 
headlong,  bruised  and  torn,  into  the  stream 
below.  It  was  his  second  encounter  with 
Master  Lion ;  but  this  time  there  was  no 
one  to  call  him  off.  The  brave  dog,  whose 
hatred  was  as  strong  as  his  love,  had  his 
full  revenge  of  him,  and  let  him  go  only 
when  he  knew  him  to  have  had  his  just 
deserts. 

As  for  me,  I  saw  nothing  of  all  this ;  I 
heard  only  the  piteous  cry  that  came  from 
my  darling  as  she  fell  swooning  to  the 
earth.  Ere  I  reached  her  side,  Monsieur 
Lucien  had  her  in  his  arms,  where  she  lay 
like  one  dead,  with  the  red  blood  streaming 
about  her  hair  and  throat.  I  think  the 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.         251 

sight  of  her  that  night  was  the  thing  that 
first  melted  his  heart ;  and  indeed  a  man 
were  made  of  stone  who  had  looked  upon  her 
then,  so  white,  so  beautiful,  —  for  a  woman 
is  ever  beautiful  to  the  man  for  whom  she 
gives  her  life,  —  and  not  loved  her  !  I  knelt 
beside  her,  and  could  do  naught  but  weep 
and  wring  my  hands.  But  he  held  his 
kerchief  to  her  face,  and  smoothed  her 
forehead  gently,  and  his  own  face  all  the 
while  was  as  white  and  mute  as  a  marble 
image.  Then  he  lifted  her  upon  his  horse, 
and,  mounting  himself  after,  held  her  fast 
in  his  arms,  while  I  followed,  and  we  trav- 
elled back  to  the  farm-house  as  silently  as 
we  had  come. 

When  my  darling  was  laid  upon  her  bed, 
and  Monsieur  Lucien  had  to  leave  me  to  go 
his  way,  —  for  go  he  must,  though  the  stars 
and  moon  fall,  now  that  his  word  was  bound, 
—  she  had  not  yet  opened  her  eyes  in  con- 
sciousness. He  waited  as  long  as  he  dared, 
for  I  knew  that  his  heart  was  torn  asunder, 
and  that  he  longed  to  say  a  word  to  her  ere 
he  went  away ;  but  she  remained  white  and 
silent. 


252  MY  LADY: 

"  Tell  her  I  shall  return,  if  my  life  is 
spared,"  he  said,  "  to  ask  her  forgiveness ;  " 
and  his  voice  trembled  and  grew  hoarse, 
so  that  he  could  say  no  more.  And  as  he 
took  my  hand  and  turned  away,  there  stood 
great  tears  in  his  eyes,  and  my  own  heart 
was  wrung  at  the  sight  of  his  manly  grief. 


A    STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.          253 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

>H,  what  a  mystery,  what 
a  strange,  sweet  mystery, 
it  is,  that  the  heart  of 
woman  should  turn  to 
one  man  in  the  whole 
world,  one  man  amongst 
all  other  of  God's  crea- 
tures, and  love  him  and 
live  for  him  alone,  and  make  it  sweeter  to 
die  for  him  than  love  any  other !  And 
yet  that  love  is  the  one  thing  which  is  the 
bread  and  sunshine  of  the  heart,  that  feeds 
and  warms  its  every  pulse,  and  brings  forth 
in  the  time  of  life's  harvest  the  richest  pro- 
ducts of  the  soul.  How  barren  is  a  life  with- 
out it,  and  who  would  not  suffer  all  the 
delicious  torments  that  it  brings  for  the  sake 
of  living  once  its  golden  hours  of  joy  !  Sor- 
row is  love's  shadow,  and  those  who  love 
must  sorrow,  much  or  little,  according  to 
their  strength;  yet  they  that  have  lived 


254  MY  LADY: 

through  both  will  say  with  me,  how  many 
of  life's  sorrows  vanish  at  the  memory  of  a 
single  happy  hour ! 

My  Lady  is  a  well-born  woman,  strong 
and  tender.  All  that  her  love  had  led  her 
to  do,  I  would  have  you  believe,  was  because 
of  her  youth,  her  quick,  impetuous  nature, 
and  from  no  lack  of  maidenly  reserve.  She 
had  never  known  such  a  love  as  the  one 
that  came  upon  her  so  swift  and  sudden  and 
unawares  during  those  brief  summer  days. 
She  knew  nothing  of  its  wily  strength,  its  un- 
relenting grasp,  its  maddening  fever ;  and 
hence  she  did  her  own  heart's  promptings, 
which,  I  am  sure,  are  never  otherwise  than 
upright  and  good.  For  many  weeks  after 
the  scene  of  that  luckless  night,  she  lay  in 
perfect  unconsciousness  of  everything  around 
her.  Her  brain  was  on  fire,  and  she  tossed 
and  turned  upon  her  hot  pillow  night  and 
day.  She  would  moan  and  rave  about  him, 
and  beseech  me  to  go  to  the  cross-road  to 
meet  him  in  her  stead,  fancying  herself  still 
back  to  that  time,  and  say  to  him  how  it  was 
that  she  could  not  come  herself,  being  very 
ill.  And  this  I  would  feign  to  do  for  her 


A  STORY  OF  LONG   AGO.  255 

peace.  1  love  not  to  dwell  on  those  sorry 
times ;  even  now  my  heart  grows  sick  with 
thinking  of  them,  and  there  are  happier 
days  coming,  to  which  I  would  hasten  in 
preference. 

I  never  left  her  bed's  side  from  the  time 
we  laid  her  there  till  I  with  my  own  arms 
lifted  her  from  it,  and  carried  her  to  the  win- 
dow to  behold  the  dying  glory  of  the  warm 
autumn  days.  For  of  course  she  grew  well 
and  strong  and  rosy  again,  her  illness  not 
being  so  grievous  as  we  had  fancied  at  first, 
and  the  wound  on  her  pretty  face  having 
healed  so  well  under  my  care  as  to  seem 
scarcely  more  than  a  pin-scratch.  Still  it 
was  there,  plain  enough  to  my  jealous  eyes, 
who  could  not  bear  that  her  fairness  should 
be  marred  in  any  way  whatsoever.  There 
it  was  indeed,  stretching  from  her  delicate 
eyebrow  down  to  the  little  dimple  next  her 
chin,  —  a  fine  line,  hardly  more  visible  than  a 
thread,  save  that  it  grew  white  whenever  her 
cheeks  flushed,  and  rosy'  when  she  paled. 
Once  or  twice  she  begged  me  to  bring  her 
the  looking-glass,  that  she  might  see  how 
changed  she  was  ;  but  I,  fearing  to  grieve  her, 


256  MY  LADY: 

did  make  some  pretext  or  other  to  forget  it. 
When  she  was  well  enough  to  walk  herself 
to  the  mirror,  no  look  of  disappointment  or 
regret  came  over  her  face  when  she  saw  the 
red  symbol  of  her  impetuous  love,  —  for  she 
had  not  the  silly  vanity  to  be  disturbed 
by  so  small  a  matter,  she  said.  She  laughed 
at  me,  instead,  for  my  vain  fears,  saying,  — 

"Why  would  you  not  let  me  see  myself, 
you  wily  Mistress  Anne  !  Did  you  think  I 
should  pine  for  the  loss  of  a  little  beauty? 
I  am  still  good  enough  for  you  to  look  at, 
am  I  not?  Then  that  is  quite  enough." 

Whereupon  I  would  cover  her  with  kisses, 
and  tell  her  that  she  was  a  hundredfold 
more  beautiful  now  than  she  had  ever  been, 
as  in  truth  she  was.  For  in  the  long  days 
when  she  lay  there  on  her  white  bed,  slowly 
regaining  strength,  and  drinking  in  the  quiet, 
pleasurable  draught  of  life  renewed,  she  had 
had  much  time  to  ponder  and  learn  wisdom, 
and  she  was  suddenly  grown  gentle  and 
womanly.  Her  love  had  not  changed,  not 
hers ;  it  had  only  ripened  into  a  fairer  and 
gentler  thing. 

All  through  the  time  of  my  darling's  ill- 


A   STORY  OP  LONG  AGO.  257 

ness,  there  had  been  a  mighty  to  do  round 
in  the  village  about  her,  and  those  who  had 
known  her  kindly  ministry  could  not  now 
do  enough  to  show  their  good  feeling.  So 
that  I  was  at  my  wits'  end  to  know  what  to 
do  with  the  flowers  and  sweetmeats,  and 
the  many  love -tokens  that  came  to  her  from 
all  the  neighbors  and  country-folk.  When 
she  walked  with  Madame  and  me,  to  take 
her  first  airing,  you  might  have  thought  she 
was  the  Empress  Josephine  herself,  such  a 
joyous  clamoring  as  there  was  !  I  remem- 
ber seeing  a  village  mother  who  had  come 
out  to  her  door  with  the  rest  of  the  com- 
munity to  bid  my  Lady  good-health,  smack 
her  youngster  roundly  for  an  unmannerly 
lad,  because  the  urchin  had  not  lifted  his 
cap  when  the  pretty  lady  went  by.  My 
dear  Monsieur  Philippe,  who  had  left  us  for 
his  last  year  of  college  while  my  darling  was 
still  quite  low,  did  nothing  but  write  letters 
to  inquire  how  she  did ;  and  he  sent  her 
such  magnificent  gifts  at  Christmas  time 
from  that  gay  city  of  Paris,  that  my  eyes 
would  not  go  shut  for  looking  at  them. 
And  Monsieur  Dancourt  —  But  I  will  leave 
17 


258  MY  LADY: 

all  that  Monsieur  Dancourt  did  until  another 
chapter,  for  you  will  surely  wish  to  hear  a 
whole  chapter  more  about  him. 

And  as  to  dear  old  Master  Lion,  —  a  per- 
sonage whom  I  beg  you  to  believe  we  find  it 
impossible  to  praise  over- much,  he  having 
so  well  rid  us  of  that  pestilence,  Francois, 
who  I  rejoice  to  say  has  never  since  shown 
his  ugly  face  in  Provence, — Master  Lion,  I 
repeat,  did  conduct  himself  throughout  my 
Lady's  illness  in  a  way  which  might  well 
stand  an  example  to  any  dog ;  never  utter- 
ing so  much  as  a  whimper  when  he  knew 
her  to  be  asleep,  lying  outside  her  door 
all  through  the  night,  and  when  admitted  to 
her  bedside,  coming  as  quietly  as  a  lamb  to 
rest  his  brown  muzzle  on  her  white  coverlet 
to  receive  his  morning  caress.  In  faith,  I 
never  saw  'twixt  maid  and  dog  such  perfect, 
true  devotion.  That  is  why  I  have  had  to 
make  much  of  him  in  these  pages,  he  being 
part  and  pith  of  our  household,  sharing  our 
joys  and  bemoaning  our  griefs  as  heartily  as 
any  human  friend.  My  Lady  cannot  think 
too  well  of  him,  and  no  more  can  I,  though 
he  and  I  have  had  many  a  difference  of 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.          259 

opinion,  at  various  times,  upon  matters  of 
our  own,  in  spite  of  which  I  do  affirm  with- 
out fear  of  contradiction  that  he  is  the  very 
paragon  of  dogs. 

It  was  in  the  early  autumn,  and  on  a  Sab- 
bath eve,  the  day  a  year  since  Monsieur 
Lucien  Dancourt  had  left  us  for  his  foreign 
warfare.  My  darling  was  sitting  near  a 
window  listening  to  the  sounds  of  Even- 
Song  that  came  floating  on  the  evening 
breeze  from  the  windows  of  the  little  chapel 
in  the  distance.  She  had  been  silent  much 
of  that  day;  perhaps  the  sad  anniversary 
was  in  her  mind,  as  it  was  in  mine.  I  saw 
that  she  was  listening  intently  now,  for  it 
was  a  favorite  vesper-chant,  one  that  she 
used  to  love  when  a  child.  She  had  never 
known  why  she  loved  it  better  than  all  other 
music ;  but  now  her  heart  understood  all 
that  was  tender  and  beautiful ;  and  in  that 
chant  there  is  one  strain  so  pure  and  mystic 
that  it  lifts  one  near  to  Heaven,  —  a  strain 
that  holds  one  for  a  single  second  in  perfect 
ecstasy,  and  then  dies  away  in  a  murmur 
that  is  like  the  sighing  of  angels.  I  saw  her 


260  MY  LADY: 

tremble  here ;  I  myself  was  moved  by  the 
sweet  sound,  for  there  is  naught  that  so  stirs 
up  one's  inner  self,  when  one  is  sad  of  spirit, 
as  hearing  some  beloved  music  that  speaks 
to  one  of  happy  times  gone  by.  I,  who  have 
but  scanty  knowledge  of  the  gentle  art,  and 
am  but  a  simple,  foolish  old  woman,  as  you 
have  guessed  ere  this,  even  I  have  felt  its 
thrill  so  keenly  at  times  that  I  would  fain 
cry  out  with  pain  or  joy,  I  know  not  which. 

I  was  about  to  go  to  my  darling  to  cheer 
her  up  a  bit,  for  I  could  never  bear  to  see 
her  bright  young  face  with  that  pensive  look 
upon  it ;  but  ere  I  plucked  up  my  courage  to 
disturb  the  cat  that  lay  sleeping  in  my  lap, 
and  lay  my  spectacles  and  stitching  down, 
in  walks  my  young  Marquis,  who  was  now 
again  with  us,  having  finished  his  colleging 
and  come  off  with  all  the  honors,  as  I  was 
certain  he  would  do.  He  never  let  a  day 
go  by  without  happening  in  twice  or  thrice, 
always  as  welcome  as  are  pleasant  surprises, 
and  bringing  ever  with  him  cheeriness  and 
good-fellowship.  The  two  were  to  all  outward 
appearances  on  the  same  old  friendly  terms 
as  in  the  days  of  their  childhood,  —  the  best 


A    STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.          261 

of  friends  and  the  dearest  of  cousins ;  one 
would  never  have  imagined  anything  else. 

My  Lady  brightened  up  the  minute  she 
saw  him. 

"  Oh,  Philippe,  what  a  merry  sight  you 
jire,  always  appearing  when  one  most  wants 
you  !  " 

"  Well,  Lady  mine,"  he  said,  laughing  and 
with  much  feint  of  deference,  "  speak  !  what 
is  it  you  want  with  me?  You  know  that 
your  wishes  are  my  statutes,"  or  some  such 
pretty  foolery. 

"  Nothing  but  your  bright  companion- 
ship," said  my  Lady.  "  I  am  afraid  I  am 
growing  old  and  grumpy  of  late.  I  have 
done  naught  but  sit  beside  this  window  and 
think,  and  think,  and  think  of  nothing." 

"  Then  I  will  give  you  somewhat  to  think 
on,"  said  my  young  master,  and  sat  down 
near  her.  "  Lucien  has  written  asking  leave 
to  come  to  Saint- Rambert.  The  campaign  is 
well-nigh  ended  for  a  time,  and  he  has  done 
such  deeds  of  valor,  and  won  so  much  glory 
to  himself,  that  he  must  needs  lay  that 
aside,  and  come  and  be  with  us  to  forget  his 
grandeur,  else  he  shall  grow  in  vanity." 


262  MY  LADY: 

My  darling  paled  at  the  words  and  seemed 
much  agitated.  She  did  not  look  at  Phi- 
lippe, but  out  of  the  window,  saying  after  a 
pause,  "Why  should  he  not  come  if  he 
chooses?"  and  I  could  not  tell  from  her 
tone  whether  she  was  distressed  or  pleased. 

Philippe  looked  at  her  very  closely,  but 
her  eyes  were  still  fixed  on  the  garden,  and 
he  could  not  guess  any  better  than  I  did 
what  her  thoughts  were. 

"  I  think,  this  time,  that  Lucien  comes  for 
your  sake,  Maidie  dear,"  he  said  very  low, 
as  if  almost  afraid  to  breathe  the  secret  that 
had  been  intrusted  to  him,  "  and  it  is  you 
who  must  give  him  leave.  Will  you  not  see 
him,  and  receive  him  kindly?  " 

She  covered  her  face  with  her  hands. 

"  I  have  been  such  a  wilful,  unruly  child  !  " 
she  said,  laughing  a  little  nervously  through 
her  tears.  "  What  can  he  think  of  me  now  ? 
how  can  he  wish  to  see  me  ?  "  and  she  laid 
her  head  on  the  window-ledge. 

"  Have  no  fear  of  that,  Maidie,"  said  my 
young  master.  "  Lucien  is  a  true  nobleman ; 
perhaps  he  can  tell  you  better  than  I  why  he 
wishes  to  see  you." 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.  263 

They  sat  in  silence  for  a  long  time,  and  I 
watched  them,  my  heart  all  in  a  flutter. 
"  Coming  again  !  "  thought  I ;  "  well,  it 's  a 
pretty  time  indeed  !  How  long  was  it  since, 
— a  twelvemonth  to-day,  did  I  not  say?  Now 
I  suppose  we  shall  have  plenty  more  crazy 
doings,  and  I  must  needs  begin  once  more 
my  sentinel  duty."  Yet  I  waited  anxiously 
to  hear  what  my  darling  would  say  further. 

When  the  young  Marquis  rose  to  go,  she 
stretched  out  her  hand  to  him,  and  said 
quite  gently,  — 

"  Tell  him  that  he  may  come,  Philippe." 


264 


MY  LADY: 


CHAPTER  XX. 


HE  heart  of  woman 
is  a  wayward  thing, 
I  might  have  known 
it,  —  I,  with  all  my 
vast  experience  of 
which  I  so  oft  do 
vaunt  myself!  But 
I  had  a  fond  fancy  that  my  Maidie  was  un- 
like other  women,  —  the  which  she  is  in  many 
ways,  being  fairer  and  gentler  and  more 
loving,  to  my  thinking;  still,  in  the  matter 
of  hearts  women  are  mostly  alike,  —  a  puzzle 
at  best,  and  full  of  contradictions.  Now,  I 
had  thought,  in  spite  of  what  I  may  have 
said  to  the  contrary,  that  matters  would 
surely  go  smoothly  on,  when  Monsieur 
Lucien  came  this  time.  He  had  not  made 
a  confidante  of  me,  nor  could  I  well  read  his 
thoughts,  he  being  so  far  away  in  that  land 


A   STOKY  Of  LONG  AGO.          265 

of  fighting  and  of  savage  folk;  but  this 
is  what  I  guessed  from  things  Monsieur 
Philippe  said  now  and  then,  and  from  cer- 
tain events  which  befell  subsequently. 

Monsieur  Lucien,  after  leaving  my  dar- 
ling in  such  a  piteous  state  as  she  was  on 
the  night  of  his  going  away,  and  all  for 
love  of  him  too,  must  have  had  a  deal  to 
think  about  during  his  long  journey  across 
the  blue  Mediterranean,  and  I  believe  that 
it  was  not  all  about  the  glory  he  meant  to 
achieve  under  his  Emperor's  colors,  either ! 
I  ween  that  his  eyes  and  heart  were  opened 
now  to  a  path  of  life  more  attractive  and 
more  enviable  than  that  which  leads  only 
to  glory  and  renown.  I,  for  my  part,  could 
never  understand  why  he  had  not  loved 
her  from  the  very  first,  and  thus  saved  us 
a  world  of  trouble.  But,  as  I  have  already 
said,  he  was  a  mystery,  and  you  might  as 
well  try  to  solve  the  riddle  of  the  sphinx 
as  to  fathom  his  thoughts.  All  I  do  know  is 
that  when  he  was  away  from  my  darling 
and  did  fully  comprehend  the  depth  and 
strength  of  her  nature,  man-like  he  began 
to  think  of  her  tenderly,  and  marvelled  at 


266  MY  LADY: 

his  own  stupidity  in  having  been  so  slow 
about  it ;  and  he  longed  to  say  sweet  things 
to  her,  the  which  he  could  not  do  that  day 
in  the  wood,  for  his  being  dumb  almost 
with  surprise.  He  had  thought  —  'twas  only 
a  passing  thought  —  that  she  and  Philippe 
cared  for  each  other,  and  yet  it  could  not 
be,  else  Philippe  had  confided  the  secret 
to  him ;  they  had  never  withheld  anything 
from  each  other,  he  and  my  young  Marquis. 
So  her  tender  love  was  justly  and  rightly 
his,  he  thought.  That  he  should  love  her 
in  return  was  but  a  debt  of  friendship  to 
Philippe,  and  a  most  sweet  and  easy  task 
for  himself.  But  now  a  whole  sea  was  be- 
tween them  and  a  year's  absence  might 
make  a  change  in  her ;  and  the  very  thought 
of  this  made  him  frantic,  so  that  he  could 
not  be  at  peace  in  his  own  heart. 

During  that  long  year  of  absence  he  had 
learned  to  love  her  truly,  —  ah,  yes,  to  love 
her  truly  and  well,  as  'twas  his  nature  to 
do  all  things  he  did  well.  And  he  did 
come  back  to  Saint-Rambert  in  quest  of 
his  happiness,  ere  the  summer  roses  began 
to  droop  or  the  distant  hills  had  lost  their 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.          267 

mantle  of  bright  green.  He  came  with  his 
heart  full  of  expectation,  and  many  honeyed 
words  were  on  his  tongue,  thinking  to  win 
that  sweet  confession  from  her  once  again 
with  only  a  glance  or  a  word.  Now,  this 
showed  plainly  that  he  had  little  knowledge 
of  a  woman's  heart,  —  so  fragile  a  thing,  so 
like  a  sensitive  flower,  that  opens  when  you 
turn  away  from  it,  and  closes  when  you 
come  too  near.  I  remember  well  how  it 
all  came  about,  for  now  I  think  of  it  'twas 
not  so  very  long  ago ;  I  remember  how  that 
I  was  in  as  much  excitement  as  if  it  had 
been  my  own  time  of  courting,  as  it  was 
verily  my  dotage  in  such  matters.  For  folk, 
they  say,  are  in  love  twice  in  their  lives,  — 
at  sixteen  for  themselves,  and  at  sixty  again 
for  others. 

It  was  in  the  morning  that  he  came, 
when  all  the  earth  is  fresh  and  laughing, 
when  a  lover's  tread  is  light  and  his  heart 
buoyant  with  hope.  He  came  alone,  and 
I  fancy  he  thought  to  make  their  first  meet- 
ing sweet,  and  free  from  any  constraint  at 
the  recollection  of  what  had  passed  between 
them  a  year  since,  by  many  soft  and  plead- 


268  MY  LADY: 

ing  words,  and  his  acting  the  part  of  a 
lover  on  the  spot.  But  not  so.  When  my 
Lady  held  out  her  hand  to  him,  she  did 
so  with  a  quiet  dignity  that  forbade  anything 
further  than  a  friendly  greeting,  and  which 
struck  him,  as  it  did  me,  with  a  sudden  chill, 
as  when  a  gust  of  ice- laden  mountain  wind 
makes  winter  of  a  bright  summer  day.  She 
showed  no  emotion,  save  that  her  cheeks 
grew  a  little  paler,  and  the  line  across  the 
left  one  stood  out  like  a  rosy  thread.  But 
that  was  whilst  he  kissed  her  hand,  and  he 
saw  it  not.  Afterwards  she  was  as  serious 
and  reserved  as  though  she  had  been  talk- 
ing to  her  confessor.  The  little  medal  he 
had  given  her,  and  which  always  hung  about 
her  throat,  was  not  visible  now,  though  I 
knew  full  well  where  it  lay  hid.  She  was 
so  changed,  so  demure  all  in  a  minute,  that 
I  hardly  knew  my  darling ;  while  he  seemed 
to  lose  his  wits  and  tongue  all  at  once, 
—  he  who  had  been  so  ready  with  pretty 
phrases,  —  and  I  could  not  but  pity  his 
discomfiture. 

What  was  it  that  had  come  over  her?  I 
pondered ;  true,  she  had  grown  older,  and 


A   STOKY  OF  LONG  AGO.  269 

much  wiser  in  the  past  year,  and  more  lovely, 
of  which  I  saw  he  took  full  notice;  but  I 
knew  that  in  her  heart  she  loved  him, 
and  I  could  not  see  why  she  should  of  a 
sudden  turn  so  chilly  and  forbidding  towards 
him,  like  the  maidens  on  a  stage.  Perhaps 
it  was  a  cover  for  whatever  else  she  felt 
and  wished  to  hide  from  him.  She  knew 
that  she  had  been  unwise,  she  had  con- 
fessed it  to  me,  in  speaking  of  her  love, 
since ;  and  I  had  often  repeated  to  her 
what  my  dear  old  mother  used  to  say  to 
me  years  ago,  "  Never  let  a  man  ken  how 
deep  is  the  well  of  thy  love  for  him,  else 
he  will  surely  draw  from  it  too  freely."  But 
there  was  naught  for  her  to  feel  ashamed 
in  what  she  had  done,  that  I  could  see, 
and  he  was  far  too  generous  of  mind  to 
think  it.  You  see,  as  soon  as  he  was  in 
trouble,  I  began  to  swerve,  and  my  sym- 
pathy, turning  traitor,  was  all  with  him. 
He  tried  to  cross  the  barrier  that  she  had 
raised  between  them,  by  making  mention 
of  their  last  conscious  parting,  and  hum- 
bling himself  after  the  fashion  of  brave 
men  in  defeat,  calling  himself  an  idle  fool 


270  MY  LADY: 

for  letting  slip  from  him  a  heart  so  brave 
and  loving  as  her  own. 

"  But  you  asked  me  to  forget  that  day," 
she  said,  looking  at  him  without  changing 
color,  "  and  I  have  tried  to  do  your  bidding." 

"  But  I,"  he  cried,  with  more  fervor  than 
I  had  ever  seen  in  him  before,  "  I  cannot 
forget  it !  Did  you  not  on  that  day  stake 
your  life  for  mine  !  I  have  never  ceased 
to  think  of  it  since  I  left  you,  and  I  had 
hoped  —  " 

She  stopped  the  words. 

"Then  let  me  ask  you  to  forget  it  now; 
I  should  wish  it  so  ;  "  and  she  looked  away 
from  him.  But  his  eyes  grew  dark  and 
liquid  as  he  saw  her  white  hand  go  up 
unconsciously  to  her  wounded  cheek,  and 
though  he  remained  silent,  I  knew  his  heart 
was  as  sorely  wounded. 

When  he  had  left  her,  and  was  well  along 
the  road,  where  he  walked  slowly  and  with 
saddened  countenance,  as  though  the  ghosts 
of  his  fond  hopes  walked  in  his  wake,  my 
darling  ran  to  me  and  threw  herself  in  my 
arms  and  cried  excitedly,  while  I  scolded 
her,  as  well  as  I  could  ever  do,  for  her 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.          271 

strange  behavior  toward  Monsieur  Lucien; 
and  then,  by  way  of  reparation,  I  had  to 
humor  her  a  bit,  and  have  her  in  my  own 
chamber  for  that  evening's  meal,  which 
was  always  a  recompense  to  her  when  a 
child.  And  there  I  coaxed  and  comforted 
her,  and  made  her  tell  me  her  true  feelings, 
while  she  laughed  and  cried  over  her  tea, 
during  the  pleasing  narrative.  But  I  knew 
that  she  had  learned  a  wise  lesson,  for  all 
that,  and  that  she  would  not  fail  to  win  the 
love  that  was  so  dear  to  her. 

For  many  weeks  my  darling  kept  him 
in  suspense,  always  kind,  always  friendly, 
but  never  giving  him  a  look  or  a  word  of 
encouragement ;  and  yet  the  more  reserved 
she  was,  the  more  eager  he,  and  the  stronger 
grew  her  hold  upon  him.  For  he  was  not 
the  man  to  be  disheartened  at  a  first  failure, 
nor  to  give  up  hope  after  one  defeat ;  he 
who  had  fought  the  wars  in  Egypt,  and 
wore  a  row  of  golden  honors  across  .his 
chest,  recording  his  valiant  deeds.  But 
she  was  wise  now,  for  her  years,  was  my 
Maidie,  and  even  when  she  knew  truly  that 


272  MY  LADY: 

his  heart  was  hers,  as  he  had  shown  it  by 
a  thousand  proofs,  she,  woman-like,  would 
have  him  dwell  on  the  uncertainty  of  winning 
her  back  to  him,  and  suffer  all  the  sweet, 
delicious  pangs  of  love's  lesson. 


A   S7VRY  OF  LONG   AGO.  273 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

WOULD  fain  let  you 
guess  all  that  came  to 
pass  at  Saint-Rambert 
that  autumn,  save  that 
there  is  one  thing  about 
it  which  you  would  not 
guess,  perhaps,  unless  I  told  it  you,  and 
which  concerns  my  dear  young  Marquis, 
Monsieur  Philippe.  I  doubt  much  if  I  have 
dwelt  enough,  in  the  telling  of  my  story,  on 
his  many  noble  qualities,  or  made  you  fully 
sensible  of  his  great  and  generous  nature ; 
but  I  would  have  you  bear  with  me  patiently 
till  the  closing  of  this  chapter,  and  learn 
what  he  did  for  my  Lady,  ere  the  next 
Christmas-tide,  and  you  shall  tell  me  then 
what  you  think  of  him. 

Through  all  the  time  of  my  Maidie's  and 
Monsieur  Lucien's  love-making,  I  never  saw 
him  once  looking  as  if  he  envied  his  friend 
18 


274  MY  LADY; 

a  minute's  happiness.  He  was  their  verita- 
ble good  angel,  comforting  them  when  they 
were  disconsolate,  and  rejoicing  with  them 
when  their  time  of  rejoicing  came.  For 
that  time  came,  of  course,  as  it  must  come 
sooner  or  later  in  people's  lives.  Just  how 
or  when  it  came  about  for  my  darling,  I 
cannot  tell  exactly ;  for  when  once  I  saw 
that  matters  could  not  be  made  smooth  with 
continual  fretting,  and  sitting  up  o'  nights  to 
think  of  them,  I  left  off  my  fretting  and 
watching ;  and  immediately  matters  shaped 
themselves  as  by  a  magic  hand. 

That  is  why  I  cannot  tell  you  more  of 
what  Monsieur  Lucien  said  to  my  Lady  that 
morning,  when,  coming  home  from  chapel,  I 
found  them  sitting  together  in  her  little  gar- 
den. At  first  I  could  not  believe  my  eyes, 
and  stared,  and  stared,  and  leaned  up 
against  the  wall  for  support ;  for  there,  if 
you  will  believe  me,  was  my  haughty  Lady 
meekly  reposing  in  Monsieur  Lucien's  arms, 
her  head  resting  on  his  shoulder,  completely 
vanquished  by  the  flood  of  tender  words  he 
was  pouring  forth  into  her  willing  ears  ;  and 
there  too  sat  Master  Lion,  as  bold  and 


A   STORY  OF  LONG   AGO.          275 

shameless  as  you  please,  looking  at  them 
with  the  air  of  one  who  had  brought  the 
whole  matter  about.  They  took  no  more 
notice  of  me  than  of  the  crickets  chirping 
round  about  them  ;  and  I  could  not  turn 
away,  knowing  they  would  forgive  my  shar- 
ing their  first  sweet  happiness.  For,  at  the 
sight  of  these  two  young  creatures,  pledging 
their  faith  and  love  to  one  another  at  last, 
out  of  the  very  fulness  of  their  hearts,  my  old 
eyes  grew  dim,  and  through  a  mist  of  tears  I 
saw  my  own  young  days,  —  a  sweet  memory 
that  stood  awhile  before  me  like  a  picture. 
I  saw  a  maiden  not  so  tall  or  so  fair  as  my 
Lady,  but  with  a  face  full  as  happy,  and  I 
saw,  too,  a  stalwart  youth  standing  by  her 
side,  who  wore  no  badge  of  honor  save  that 
of  honesty  and  truth,  but  who  to  me  was  the 
noblest  of  God's  noblemen.  I  saw  the  little 
house  away  back  in  good  old  England,  — 
the  little  house  with  its  climbing  roses,  that 
peered  and  smiled  at  us  with  faces  no  less 
smiling  than  our  own.  I  saw  the  clear  skies 
overhead,  smelt  the  sweet  scent  of  the  haw- 
thorn, felt  all  the  radiance  of  that  summer 
day  so  long,  so  long  ago,  on  whose  memory 


276  MY  LADY: 

so  many  winters  have  settled  and  yet  not 
buried.  It  was  all  there  like  a  dear  one  re- 
turned to  me  from  the  dead,  and  for  one  mo- 
ment I  was  young  again,  until  the  sound  of 
my  darling's  voice  brought  me  back  across  the 
half-century,  and  I  looked  and  saw  that  her 
lover  was  smiling  down  at  her  and  saying,  — 

"  Sweetheart,  will  you  not  now  believe 
that  I  love  you  most  truly,  and  forgive  me  that 
I  learned  not  the  precious  lesson  sooner?" 
His  head  was  bending  down  close  to  hers, 
so  that  it  rested  against  her  bright  hair. 

"  Forgive  you  !  "  she  cried,  and  she  was 
at  his  feet  again,  not  like  the  mad  child  she 
had  been  on  that  dreadful  day  in  the  wood, 
but  like  a  sweet,  penitent  woman,  as  though 
she  had  been  the  one  to  seek  forgiveness. 

"  You  must  not  kneel  to  me,  my  own 
sweet  Maidie  !  "  he  cried,  raising  her  quickly 
to  him ;  and  his  eyes  were  so  earnest,  so  full 
of  love,  as  he  looked  at  her,  that  my  Lady 
paled  with  joy  beneath  the  ardent  gaze. 
Her  own  lids  fell  for  a  moment,  as  a  tender 
flower  droops  under  the  burning  eye  of  day, 
or  as  if  she  had  caught  a  glimpse  of  Paradise 
and  was  dazzled  by  its  glory.  Again  the 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.          £77 

old  gesture  came  back;  unconsciously  her 
hand  went  up  and  covered  the  wounded 
cheek.  But  he  removed  it  very  gently,  and 
kissed  that  same  cheek  many  times  over. 
And  then  I  saw  how  truly  handsome  he  was, 
and  that  the  face  which  had  been  so  grave 
was  both  manly  and  tender ;  and  I  could  not 
help  loving  him  for  that  he  had  brought  such 
happiness  to  my  darling.  Thus  they  rested 
silent  awhile,  their  lips  dumb  for  the  very 
joy  that  was  in  them.  In  that  supreme  hour 
of  life's  happiness,  the  soul  has  thoughts  for 
which  the  lips  can  find  no  words. 

Then  they  walked  out  of  the  garden  to- 
gether, all  in  a  blissful  dream,  towards  the 
chateau,  whither  my  dear  Philippe,  Heaven 
bless  his  brave  heart !  awaited  them.  And 
Master  Lion,  who  had  witnessed  the  whole 
scene  unblushingly,  followed  at  their  side, 
wagging  his  bushy  tail  with  unrestrained 
contentment. 

Now,  to  add  to  their  good -fortune,  my 
young  Marquis  had  chosen  that  very  day  to 
do  what  he  had  had  it  in  his  mind  to  do  for 
many  years,  though  in  a  different  way,  per- 
haps. It  was  the  year  of  his  majority ;  and 


278  MY  LADY: 

he  was  become,  since  the  last  springtime,  not 
only  the  sole  master  of  Saint-Rambert,  but 
also  the  master  of  all  his  noble  impulses. 
Therefore,  when  he  met  the  happy  lovers  in 
the  great  entrance-hall,  he  came  to  them 
and  kissed  my  Lady,  and  took  his  friend's 
hand,  saying,  — 

"  Let  this  be  a  happy  day  for  me  as  well 
as  you,  and  let  me  make  it  such  by  giv- 
ing back  to  my  dear  cousin  the  home  that 
is  her  own  by  right,  and  of  which  she  has 
been  deprived  too  long.  Maidie  dear,  the 
old  chateau  is  yours ;  "  and  he  laid  a  great 
bundle  of  papers  in  her  hand,  which  seemed 
to  me  more  like  a  doomsday-book,  so  full 
of  awful  words  were  they,  than  like  the 
return  of  my  darling's  fortunes.  My  Lady 
uttered  a  cry,  and  Monsieur  Lucien  grasped 
Philippe  by  the  shoulder. 

"What  have  you  done,  Philippe?"  they 
both  cried  at  once. 

"  Nothing  but  my  sweetest  duty,"  he  an- 
swered, with  a  laugh  which  showed  there  was 
no  regret  whatever  lurking  in  his  unselfish 
heart.  "  And  now  that  I  am  your  guest,  and 
you  my  hosts,"  he  said,  "  I  shall  deem  it  ill 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.  279 

hospitality  if  you  dispute  my  word,  and  I 
shall  be  constrained  to  build  me  a  new  cha- 
teau where  the  Dependance  now  stands,  if  I 
may  not  live  in  peace  with  you." 

"  Ah,  no,  Philippe,"  cried  my  Lady,  drop- 
ping all  the  dreadful  papers  and  coming 
close  to  him,  "  you  shall  never  leave  us, 
shall  he,  dearest?"  and  she  looked  to  her 
lover  to  confirm  her  words.  "  Never,  never, 
and  you  must  leave  the  old  home  as  it  stands, 
the  dear  old  house  where  we  have  all  been 
happy.  Promise  me  that,  Philippe  ;  you  can 
refuse  me  nothing  to-day?"  and  Philippe 
promised. 

Then,  as  she  stood  there  amongst  those  who 
loved  her  so  well,  —  for  Madame  was  also 
come  to  welcome  her,  —  she,  having  in  mind 
her  cousin  Philippe's  generous  act,  pointed 
to  the  high  chimney  which  bore  the  bright 
heraldry  of  Saint-Rambert,  and  the  golden 
letters  that  she  loved,  and  which  seemed  all 
the  brighter  to-day  for  the  joy  that  was  in  her 
heart,  and  turning  to  her  lover  she  said, — 

"  It  is  the  truth,  Lucien,  is  it  not?  '  Love 
conquers  all  things.'  " 

"  Ah,  yes,  my  own,  it  is  the  most  blessed 


28 o  MY  LADY: 

of  all  truths,  and  we  shall  abide  by  it  for- 
ever ! "  and  he  drew  her  head  to  him  so  that 
it  rested  on  his  breast. 

Now,  not  very  long  after  the  happening  of 
all  these  exciting  events,  my  darling  ap- 
peared before  me  one  morning  with  some- 
thing on  her  slender  finger,  —  a  precious 
thing  indeed,  a  circlet  of  yellow  gold  with 
tiny  sparkling  jewels  inlaid  to  shape  certain 
letters.  All  her  playful  winsome  ways  were 
come  back  to  her  now  that  she  was,  happy, 
and  at  first  she  made  as  if  she  would  not  show 
it  me,  holding  her  hand  behind  her  back, 
and  then  holding  it  out  again  kitten- like,  and 
saying,— 

"You  must  not  read  the  words  upon  it, 
mistress  mine." 

"  Fie,  fie,  upon  you,  little  elf !  "  I  cried, 
"  will  you  not  let  your  old  nurse  be  happy 
with  you?"  and  the  very  next  instant  she  was 
hanging  on  my  neck,  kissing  and  coddling 
me  as  she  used  to  do  when  she  was  little, 
and  had  been  a  bit  naughty. 

I  took  the  precious  hand  in  mine,  and 
turned  the  fair  gem  upon  it  round  and  round 
till  I  had  read  the  words  AMOR  VINCIT  OMNIA  ! 


"A  circlet  of  yellow  gold  on  her  slender  ringer." 


A   STORY  OF  LONG  AGO.         283 

And  now,  what  more  can  I  tell  you,  hav- 
ing come  to  the  very  end  of  my  story,  save 
that  my  darling  is  happy  and  that  we  are  all 
so  with  her,  and  that,  as  she  would  go  no- 
where but  to  England  for  my  sake  on  her 
wedding-journey,  and  would  take  no  one  to 
attend  her  but  myself,  I  have  lately  seen  my 
dear  David  and  his  family  of  little  Davids, 
sturdy  and  bonnie  as  himself,  who  opened 
their  mouths  and  eyes  very  wide  at  sight  of 
me,  for  being  so  very  fine,  and  having  seen 
so  much  of  the  world ;  and  that,  returning 
thence  in  safety,  we  are  all  living  in  peace 
and  quiet,  as  all  sensible  folk  should  do,  to- 
gether at  the  great  chateau;  and  that  the 
wars  being  ended  by  the  great  Emperor's 
downfall,  Monsieur  Lucien  has  turned  his 
thoughts  to  other  things  of  no  less  worth. 

And  you  may  see  for  yourself,  any  day  you 
chance  to  happen  in  our  fair  land  of  Pro- 
vence, the  old  chateau  as  it  stands  to-day, 
tall  and  strong  and  stately,  while  all  the 
glowing  autumn  landscape  lies  blushing  at 
its  feet ;  there  it  will  stand  for  many  years  to 
come,  when  we  shall  be  no  more,  and  others 
look  upon  it  to  remember  my  young  master's 


284 


MY  LADY. 


good  deed,  of  which  it  is  a  symbol ;  for  a 
good  deed  lives  on  to  make  even  the  dead 
blessed. 

As  for  my  dear  young  Marquis,  my  brave 
Philippe,  the  worthiest  young  nobleman  of 
his  noble  name,  he  has  not  yet  found  the 
woman  to  take  my  darling's  place  in  his 
heart,  although  it  is  some  years  now,  as  I 
write,  since  all  these  things  have  happened. 
Indeed,  I  doubt  much  if  there  be  anywhere 
else  in  the  world  a  woman  quite  good  enough 
for  him ;  but  if  he  ever  does  find  her,  as  I 
hope  he  may,  for  his  own  happiness,  I  will 
surely  tell  you  of  it  on  another  page. 


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D1SCHARGE-URC 

DEC     11978 


Form  L9-Series  444 


-«• 


3   1158  00387  9656 


A    000  040  203     2 


